Fowl Shorts
by Kitsune Heart
Summary: A collection of humorous stories covering: the use of lotion, violent Holly, hormone-addled Artemis, swear toads, fairy cuisine, public singing, memes, sexy dancing, sports cars, innuendo, female "purity," rockstar anatomy, babysitting, gods, and romance.
1. The student becomes the teacher

**Disclaimer: Is this really needed anymore? I don't own whatever Eoin Colfer owns, and I really doubt he cares that I'm using his stuff. He _should_ be concerned over my extended fantasies about meeting him and joining his poker game, alongside Rick Riordan, Suzanne Collins, and Orson Scott Card, a la "Castle."**

* * *

** Chapter 1: The student becomes the teacher**

**September 15, 2008- The Lower Elements, Haven City, Police Plaza**

Holly Short, star child of the LEPRecon, had taken her promotion to major only after many negotiations and not a few threats from Commander Kelp. Among her demands were a substantial increase in pay, guaranteed visas to the surface on all scheduled vacations (no mean task, this one had to go all the way to the Council for approval, though it was given in light of her involvement with the Fowl/Koboi cases), a promise that no more than 50% of her work hours would be devoted to paperwork, and first choice on all but the most critical Reconnaissance assignments. In all, it was not a bad deal. If Trouble had deigned to mention the classes.

She should have remembered them. As a new recruit, Holly had been forced to attend three hours per week of "auxiliary" courses taught by an LEP major or higher. Of course, she had devoted this time to advanced weapons and piloting under Root and Vinyáya, but that had hardly registered as an extra course load to the energetic officer. The entire point of the classes was to expand on a fairy's natural abilities by having them focus on their strengths in a more rigorous setting. Thus, when Trouble Kelp approached her with her first one-hour block of class, including the topic he would expect her to cover until she was able to provide him with a subject more in line with her skills, she nearly throttled him.

"You can not be serious, Commander!" She sputtered, looking at the small data screen he'd handed to her. She held it at arms length, wanting to hand it back to her superior. "This looks like something that Corporal Frond should be doing. This is...a joke. Or an insult. Or-"

"That's an order, Major Short." Trouble had interrupted, pushing the tablet into her body until she was forced to take a step back. "You have one week to prepare. And make it good. I will be in attendance, to see how you measure up, and I'll be making Grub come along as my 'assistant.' Frond knows, he needs some pointers." Then, the Commander had sauntered off, effectively closing the conversation and trapping Holly into her orders.

Major Short had spent three days seething and then, following the fine example given to her by one Artemis Fowl II, she had spent the next four days plotting. When Commander Kelp, Corporal Kelp, and two dozen other LEP officers entered the Police Plaza classroom and saw Major Holly sitting calmly on one of the granite table tops, surrounded by a bevy of small, white boxes, smiling to the tips of her pointy ears, half of them suspected they were in for it. Except for Trouble. Trouble knew he was screwed.

"Please be seated, class. Two to a table, all of you facing the front, and no chatting. We have a lot to cover today, and I don't want to go over the hour. I'm not getting overtime if I do, and neither are you, so let's get going."

The Commander relaxed back in his chair, though he was the only fairy in attendance that was so calm. Even Grub, protected by his high-ranking brother, was sitting ram-rod straight. Although Grub _had_ been a bit nervous around Holly since the escape of Opal Koboi from the J. Argon Institute. Given that she had chosen him as her first martial arts "training" opponent after returning to the LEP, and had proceeded to beat him black and blue every week for the next few months for "dereliction of duty resulting in Commander Root's death" (somewhat accurate, though Trouble did occasionally remind her that Grub had been sedated at the time, and it was Opal Koboi's plot and not a simple break out), until he had burst into tears one day during warm ups and had to be given a month's paid leave and extensive, rather expensive psychological therapy. And a desk job.

Holly waited until all were seated and focused on her (well, Grub was looking at his thumbs, which he was twiddling quite avidly) before sliding off the table and picking up an armful of the boxes. "No opening these until I say so," she chirruped, walking around the room and placing a box in front of every officer. "Very good. As you should all know by now, as a Major I have the task of imparting upon you the knowledge that I have collected in my time as a member of the LEP. The theme is normally chosen by the teacher themselves, but, as I was unprepared with a subject when approached by Commander Kelp, he was so kind as to provide me with the topic for my first classes until I gain approval for my own field." Here, she paused a second and actually glared at Trouble, then slammed his box down. There was another pause as Holly looked at the boxes before picking one out from the bottom of her armload, laying it in front of Grub. Trouble raised his eyebrows, noting that the lid of this box had a subtle, but visible tear in one corner, while all of the other boxes appeared to be in perfect shape. She had marked this one specifically for his little brother. He sighed inwardly and prepared himself for the formal complaints.

Holly finished her round and returned to the front of the room, flicking a switch to power up the lecture board. What could best be described as a Powerpoint (though Foaly would have gone off on a half-hour lecture on the various ways in which this program surpassed the Mud Man equivalent) was displayed, starting with Holly' name, the classroom number, and the date. All very standard, and that somehow made Trouble's sense of unease a bit worse. Holly and "standard" were not two words that should be included in the same breath. "Now, I would like to remind you all that I do not consider this topic to be an area I specialize in, so this lesson may not be what you are expecting. Still, I thank you all for attending 'Social Interaction 1054: Tips for the LEP officer on romantic interaction'. Or, as I like to call it, 'Ey, Holly. You're a girl. How do I get girls to sleep with me without putting any sort of effort into the relationship? 101'"

The room went dead silent, though several officers suspected they could hear a low growl forming in the throat of the Commander. The half that had recognized their precarious position on entering the room began to mentally write their report to the Council. 'Yes, sir. I knew something was wrong from the beginning, but I just couldn't make myself do anything. It was like I was mesmerized. Halfway through the lesson, she had the Commander's intestines laid out on the table and was smothering him with his own liver. It was horrible. And rather impressive. Can she be the new combat teacher?'

As if immune to the awkward silence, she barreled on, clicking to her next slide, which was simply a picture of a Recon helmet. "Apparently, there have been some issues among the male officers in the LEP pertaining to maintaining a romantic attachment. I must say, I find this rather shocking, given that you are all such a bunch of well-adjusted, charming, attractive males."

Only Grub failed to catch her sarcasm.

"I conducted a survey of female fairies outside of Police Plaza, and have compiled a list of their most common complaints about romantic partners from the LEP." This was an outright lie, and Trouble was aware of it. She had spent the last week fuming or occasionally cackling inside of her office. "Today, I will be providing a solution to every male member of the LEP. Everyone, you may now look through the supplies for this lesson." Simultaneously, all of the students opened their box, and a resounding silence once again settled over the room.

Inside the boxes, each fairy was now looking at a container of lotion.

Oh, Frond. This was exactly what she had said: "I will be providing a solution to every male member of the LEP."

Trouble could feel his blood pressure rising. Was she implying...no, even Holly wasn't that brash. But she was irate over her assignment, and she wasn't exactly excited over her promotion. She wouldn't be upset over a demotion, and this...was a rather quick way to get one. He began to stand, body shaking in rage. "Holly, I suggest we—"

"Step one," Holly projected over him, "I know you male LEP officers are a bit wary of doing this in public, so find a nice, private place."

"Major Short, this lesson is fast approaching—"

"Step two," she continued, squirting lotion onto one palm. "Get a portion sufficient for your purposes on your palm. A quarter-sized squirt should be sufficient."

"If you do not leave off immediately, I will—"

"Step three." Holly smiled, locking eyes with Trouble. "Rub it in, paying special attention to the tip, but using plenty on the top and inside."

"THAT'S IT, I...inside?"

And Holly began to moisturize her ears.

What followed was an hour-long lecture on the downsides of various LEP uniforms, including the tendency for helmets to chafe long fairy ears. At the end, Holly thanked the class for their attention and handed out a copy of her slideshow, along with further tips on combating the negative effects of LEP suits. The class stood as one, saluted, and exited.

"That wasn't...too bad." A befuddled pixie confessed, though the tilt of his ears said that he wasn't quite sure if he was right about that statement.

Grub piped in. "Oh, yes. I mean, you can see her point about the helmet thing. I just wish that Foaly could make a more ear-friendly model. He can add every sort of sensor under the Earth, but a simple fan, please?" He sighed, and Trouble was glad his brother was behind a desk now, his ears safe from future injury, and Trouble's desk safe from another pound of written complaints. "Although...I do wish she had explained why she gave us tissues, as well."

All but Grub blinked for several seconds and there was an uncomfortable silence. 'Don't say a word, any of you,' Trouble thought, wishing to Frond that he could spontaneously develop telepathy, 'or I will demote you to private for so long that you'll be saluting your grandkids.' Either the other fairies heard him or they were smart enough to make the connection themselves and remain silent.

The corporal put his hands into the box and rubbed the tissues between his fingers. "And so soft, too."

Trouble stopped in his tracks and turned on his heel, his hand snapping to his forehead. Moments later, the snickering males had all copied his pose, returning the salute. "Well, a good class, boys. Dismissed, go home, and remember to take this seriously." Of course, he didn't exactly mean Holly's lesson. His hand snapped back down and all of the officers, Grub included, scattered.

Seconds later, Holly flounced ('Dear Frond, since when did the Major flounce?') out of the classroom, carrying the last few boxes in her left arm, along with a small data tablet. She snapped to attention and saluted Trouble, who responded automatically before starting in on his own lecture.

"D'Arvit, Major Short, I have half a mind to—"

"Take a look at my proposed lecture topic and class outline?" She interrupted, shoving the tablet against his chest, the unnerving smile from an hour before back in place.

The Commander glared, but tapped the tablet on and looked through the file. "A study of the combat techniques of Butler, with an emphasis on its usage in protecting fairies in an above-ground environment." Not bad...and the outline, which included links to several videos of the bodyguard in action, was much better planned than any other he had seen so far. If Holly hadn't been LEP, she would have made an incredible professor. "This is well done, Holly, but we need to talk about—"

Holly stood on the tips of her toes, leaning over slightly to whisper directly in Trouble's ears. The uninformed would have sworn that she was whispering the location for a lover's tryst. "Next week, I'll be covering what Grub can use the tissues for."

"LESSON PLAN APPROVED!" Trouble roared, handing the tablet back, saluting one last time, and conducting a tactical retreat. Now he understood how Julius had gotten the nickname "Beet Root": smug officers like Holly.

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**Next time on Fowl Shorts: Mulch and Doodah argue, Holly is welcomed home, and N°1 learns to never tease the elf.**


	2. He needs a big foam finger

**Chapter 2: He needs a big foam finger**

**August 1, 2008- The Lower Elements, Haven City**

"Short and Diggums: Private Investigators" just did not sound right when Short had been conspicuously absent for years. Holly had been the "brains" of the operations, and Mulch was not afraid to admit this. He may have known his way around a safe or the tunnels, but Mulch was hopeless with record books and scheduling meetings. Thus, business had dropped off after Holly's disappearance.

Of course, Mulch Diggums had enjoyed some extra income from his work with Section 8 during the rescue of the demon almost three years previously, and the fame that Mulch had gained from that operation (as there was no way the LEP could hide the anticipated return of the eighth fairy family with Foaly spearheading the operation) had done a lot to boost the popularity of the formerly blacklisted semi-celebrity enterprise. Hiring on Doodah Day had also served as a boost to business, as the speed demon had some aptitude for the fine details of the business. Unfortunately, that meant Mulch had to deal with the twitchy pixie.

"Look, I know you are a bit...attached to the name, but it's bad for business!" Doodah repeated himself for easily the 10th time that day, his hands drumming lightly on the steering wheel of the companies first major purchase, being a 20 year old clunker that they had barely rescued from the scrap heap. Of course, they probably could have afforded a more modern vehicle than the black and rust monstrosity, but it had one major advantage over the sporty model Day had begged for: no magnastrip connection. This did mean that Mulch was forced to let Doodah Day drive at all times (which did a lot to appease the whiny bugger, though Mulch suspected he was developing an ulcer from the daily near-death experiences), but it also meant that they were never stranded during lockdowns. The latter being especially important during their current mission.

Goblin hunting. They had been trailing a young goblin equipped with one of the many malfunctioning seeker sleepers that had plagued the LEP since Opal's escape, tracking it into one of Haven's less developed yet still somewhat busy side-streets.

"Can you imagine answering the phone and going 'Short and Diggums, Day speaking'? They think I'm some sort of...lackey receptionist."

"That's because you _are_ the receptionist." He did not address the "lackey" part. The last time Mulch had referred to Doodah in this way, he'd had to give the little beast a pay raise. Annoying he may be, but the pixie was also an invaluable asset, with the best driving skills in all of Haven and a rather surprising array of underworld connections. It seemed the fish-monger really got around before he went legitimate, and everyone from chefs at hole-in-the-wall restaurants up to a few former Council members owed him a favor or two.

Doodah waved both of his hands in the air, which caused Mulch to hyperventilate ever so slightly as the van swerved. "Only when we're in the office, and that's only one hour out of every 10!"

Mulch reached for the wheel, only to have his new partner slap his hands away as he reclaimed the wheel, correcting their course seconds before hitting a rather solid-looking LEP car. The driver, an old sprite, glared at Mulch as if he was the one who had almost caused the collision. The dwarf hoped that Doodah had remembered to pay up the car's registration and insurance, as he was fairly certain the officer would be running their information through his computer as they pulled ahead. 'Driving without proper insurance, 6 months. Driving a vehicle with an expired registration, 8 months. Killing a fellow fairy in a fit of rage...' "If it's only 10 percent of your time, then I'm sure you can learn to live with it."

Perhaps Mulch should have suspected it after Doodah had tried to escape from Holly by threatening her with large construction equipment, but Doodah Day was overdramatic. "I have been _trying_ to live with it for three years, but it just doesn't roll off the tongue, no matter how many times I do it. Now, 'Diggums and Day, Day speaking' works so much more easily. I even gave you first billing on that, see?"

Mulch groaned, running a hand through his bristly beard. The hair clung to his hand, as if to comfort him. "No, Doodah."

"Oh." He paused, forehead creased with the intensity of his thoughts, then brightened. "I supposed 'Day and Diggums, Day speaking' is alright with me, then!"

Mulch thrust his finger at a dark alley, and Doodah obligingly parked in the nearest circle of lamplight. The dwarf yanked his door open, grimacing when he heard the handle crack unpleasantly.

"My baby!" Doodah squealed diving across the seat that Mulch had just vacated to stroke the handle. "Did the big mean dwarf hurt you, Abigail? We'll go right to the shop after this sting and have you looked at. I'll even get you a nice tune-up, how about that?"

Much like Mulch, who occasionally heard his stolen goods speaking to him, Doodah Day conversed quite freely with his vehicles. While the former smuggler was rather reckless with any ride he borrowed, it turned out that he became a doting diesel daddy (well, if Haven still used gasoline) once he actually_owned_one. Mulch was not terribly pleased with this new addition to their monthly expenses.

He turned, thrusting his head back into the passenger side, forcing his prehensile beard hairs to writhe at the suddenly horrified pixie. "Get this in your head, Doodah. We are finishing this assignment on time, with no injuries, and _under budget._ Oh...and it is 'Short and Diggums' until you buy out Holly."

Doodah smiled. "Well, I suppose that won't be too bad. I hear things go for pretty cheap at estate sales."

Mulch considered this for a split second, then followed with the best response he could come up with. He smacked Doodah in the side of his thin skull.

"Ah! I'm bleeding! Do you have any idea how many stitches pixie head wounds take?"

Mulch grunted. "D'arvit. I guess two out of three mission goals will have to do. Now, will you stop screeching? Every goblin for a mile around will hear you, and I'd rather take this one by surprise than come in with his hands a blazin'." Before Day could respond, Diggums was in the ground.

It was a standard procedure for Mulch, though performing it on goblins made him somewhat nervous. Tunnel under the perp, catch them in his mouth, and spit them out immediately. The quick-hardening spit would immobilize his target, allowing Mulch to take them in for the bounty at his leisure. So long as the goblin's hands were smothered.

Today's target was obviously one of the most stupid goblins Mulch had come across, though that meant little in the B'wa Kell. Not only was he hiding out in a dirt-filled alley when it was common knowledge that one of the most successful bounty hunters in Haven was a _dwarf_, but he was pacing the alley, causing all sorts of noise. 'Ah, well. The young, the stupid, and the incredibly valuable.' Mulch mused, gathering his legs and buttocks underneath himself.

With an explosion of tunnel gas, Mulch shot the last few feet to the surface and completely engulfed the goblin in his slimy mouth. 'Gah, and they say I'm foul.' He spit the creature out, mercifully removing the spit from his nasal passages. "Well, that was terribly easy, Mr..."

"Grack."

Mulch's beard hairs stuck out like a porcupine's quills. Very slowly, he raised his head and looked around the alley.

Perched on a jumble of crates and emergency fire exits were at least a dozen full-grown goblins. The largest of them, an old male whose skin was in the middle of its molt, giving him a sickly gray tinge, was leaning through a bar of the ladder, scratching his claws on the metal. "Captain Grack after this, I think. Anyone willing to get swallowed by a dwarf should get a promotion."

The surrounding goblins, all obviously less than half his age and likely too young to have been much use in the Rebellion, looked intrigued at this method of advancement.

Mulch was not a gambler. He wasn't fond of fair odds, and he was even more loath to face unfair odds. He began to back towards the tunnel, eyes darting between the goblins. "Er...well...congratulations to you, Captain Grack. I hope it comes with a big pay raise. You should go celebrate, I hear The Twitchy Tavern has a great spicy chicken."

As if on cue, all of the goblins sprouted fireballs into their hands.

"Oh, I should not have said 'spicy.'"

One of the goblins actually seemed to be producing two tiny jets of flame instead of fireballs. This last one turned into a veritable flamethrower, sending a jet into Mulch's hole, melting the earth. Mulch could go in...if he wanted a nice set of third-degree burns in his mouth. He could, of course, start a new tunnel, but that would take valuable seconds and likely result in a burned backside.

The goblins were descending, now, actually juggling the balls of flame between them. Occasionally, one would toss a ball at Mulch's feet, forcing him further into the alley, causing all present (excepting the dwarf, of course) to laugh enthusiastically.

'D'arvit, where is that pixie when I need him!'

"That pixie" was actually looking in his rear view mirror, already large eyes widening fully at the group coming up the street. One of them looked very stern. And _very_ familiar. "Oh, of course..."

Mulch spread his arms wide, trying to smile reassuringly. This involved moving his lips to cover his teeth, giving his face a rather stretched look. "Now, now, gentlemen. I'm sure we're all anxious to get Captain Grack out for his night on the town. Just give him a few good knocks and you'll find a sweet spot soon enough. It'll fall right off and you can help him to a nice restaurant. Some nice grub pâté, maybe a fresh fish, a crisp white wine. It'll be great!"

The leader smiled. His tongue flicked out, squirming across his eyeballs and even briefly up one nostril before returning to his mouth. "How nice of you to be thinking about our friend, but now _you _have _me_ worried. After we beat your face in, how _will_ you get home?"

"Um...that is..." Mulch searched his mind, trying to find a witty response. If he was going down, he was going down with a smile on his face. For however long it could hold a smile. "My...friends?"

The goblins blinked at this, then began to laugh uproariously. "Your friends? Perhaps I should ask you again. You and what army?"

Mulch's jaw dropped. Shakily, he pointed behind the goblins. "That army, I think."

"Huh?" The goblin leader looked over his shoulder. "Oh...sh-"

"Arrêtent! Haut les mains! J'ai un fusil de chasse!"

The alley was swarming with Frenchmen with guns. All of them trained carefully at a goblin head.

All of the goblins faltered, dropping their fires. The alley went dark, the meager light from the entrance mostly blocked by this mass of Mud Men bodies. A goblin screamed shrilly. "R-r-r-run!" Taking his advice, the green fairies began to surge down the alley, buffeting Mulch with their fleeing bodies. They swarmed up the fire escapes, disappearing across the roofs and into the night.

Mulch looked into the barrels of dozens of French guns...and smiled. "Foaly, I do not know how you set up a hologram in this alley, but you are a genius! Just...don't let that go to your head."

Suddenly, the Frenchmen froze, not even moving enough to breath. Through the gaps in between their legs, a short creature began to approach. It's somewhat short legs were digitigrade, and it had only a stubby tail to balance its long body and blunt head. Its arms, which were nearly as long as its legs (which implied that the creatures ancestors had perhaps once ran on all four limbs), were waving about, trying to feel its way through the forest of Mud Men.

Mulch had never seen a creature like this. Most fairies were somewhat humanoid, and only goblins had a fairly non-human face, and this silhouette was completely unrecognizable to him. A bit reluctantly, he addressed the figure. "Who...are you?"

It halted and sighed, obviously frustrated. With an air of pomp, it clapped its hands together. The army disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving behind...a demon. No, more accurately, an imp. The adolescent demon was covered in red runes and looked quite pleased with himself. Red sparks of magic shot between his hands as they parted, making Mulch's beard hair stand on end as if he were holding a live wire. A smile lit up the rough face, transforming it into a rather welcoming visage while still showing off a surprisingly sharp set of teeth. Mulch felt vaguely jealous. "I'm Number One!"

Mulch nodded. "Why, yes...yes, you are."

From behind the demon, a very familiar cried out in joy. "Mulch! You gas-filled classless reprobate!" A moment later, the dwarf was knocked over by a short but enthusiastic fairy.

"H-Holly!" Mulch fought against the strong grip of his old partner, finally managing to hold her at arm's length and give her a visual once-over. "Galloping centaurs, it is you! Alive and...well, well, well!" He grinned and poked her above her left eye. "Give it to me, straight, Holly. Is this some weird Mud Man mating ritual you got caught up in? That Artemis will cause you nothing but heartache, you know."

Holly's bright blush would have been a wonderful reward for that little taunt, if she hadn't also responded by grabbing a handful of Mulch's hair and giving it a hard twist. "I've been in Haven for fifteen minutes and you are already insinuating things about my romantic morals?"

"Ah, abuse! Abuse!" He struggled free, rubbing a hand on his tender scalp. "Shesh, it was just a little nudge back for calling me 'classless'."

"I notice you've not mentioned the 'gas-filled' and 'reprobate' labels."

"Holly, you know me. I don't fight losing battles."

Through all of this verbal sparring (and slight physical altercations), the red-runed fairy had looked rather alarmed. His ears perked up at the sound of clopping hooves and the demon turned to see a rather annoyed Foaly approaching them, muttering about getting side-tracked and "going AWOL." "Er...Mr. Foaly. I think Holly is trying to kill that short, dirty fairy." His assessment of Mulch was not particularly harsh, as "dirty" was considered to be one of demonkind's three best fashion statements, shortly behind "bloody" and "sweaty."

"Nah," Foaly stomped one fore-hoof, grinning down at the troubled warlock. "She's this way with everyone she likes. And he's a dwarf."

"Oh..." The demon seemed to consider this. Foaly could almost see the wheels in his head turning, and he knew what was coming. Yet the centaur could not bring himself to stop the next words that came out of the demon's mouth. "I suppose she really likes the human, then?"

As if she possessed demon warlock teleportation skills, Holly was next to No. 1 in an instant, twisting his tough ear. "Will everyone stop insinuating things about me and the Fowl boy?" His ear had turned nearly a full circle now. "It is _very_ insulting!"

No. 1 was actually yelping now, one of his crooked legs hammering into the ground like a jackrabbit. "Yes, yes! No more jokes about the Fowl boy! You are friends! Amigos! Tomodachi! Cara! Mitra!" This went on for quite a few languages, with the surrounding fairies growing steadily more impressed with each language shift. Certainly the Gift of Tongues was a standard fairy magic, but it was more a reactive talent, and remembering all of the different languages was something of a challenge. It was only after Holly had finished her second circle with No. 1's ear and he had stated "Woof woof pant woof!" that she finally let him go. Once free, the imp sat down quickly, holding his hands over both ears in an effort to protect them from further assaults.

"I'll be in the car with Doodah. He mentioned something about a business deal he wanted to discuss with me before we had to storm in here to take care of the gas-bag's little goblin problem." Dusting off her hands, Holly sauntered out of the alley, looking somewhat less stressed.

Whimpering a bit, No. 1 looked between Foaly and Mulch for reassurance. "I guess...this means she really likes me?"

Mulch sucked air between his teeth and laid a comforting hand on the imp's shoulder. He was somewhat perplexed to note that the creature was actually a bit warmer than most fairies. Probably something to do with living next to a volcano for a few centuries. "Er...exactly. Just don't joke about her...romantic pursuits."

"Or her hair." Piped up Foaly. He offered a hand to No. 1, lifting the adolescent up and giving him a firm push towards the waiting car.

"She's a bit fanatic about the Gnome Wrestling Coalition..."

"Might want to avoid mentioning Ark Sool for a bit longer."

"Oh, and don't get her started on her LEP pay scale.."

No. 1 swallowed. Perhaps the demons did have it right. Living with females was full of dangers.

* * *

June 19, 2007- The Lower Elements, Haven City, Downtown

Mulch and Doodah's offices were located an easy walk from Police Plaza, allowing their customers to quickly turn away from the side of justice and into the arms of moderately well-paid private investigators. As such, however, this office was actually quite small. Normally, Mulch was in the back room, going over case materials before their next mission, but today he was making things feel rather cramped in the front office by sitting backwards on a chair, looking directly at Doodah Day. Mulch was rather serene, resting his chin on the back of the chair and twiddling his thumbs while Doodah looked more irritated by the second.

After about an hour of this, Doodah finally snapped. "Mulch, will you get out of the front office, I need-"

BRRRRING!

The pixie's mouth stood open in horror. He looked at the office phone, then at Mulch, willing the dwarf to leave the room. Diggums, however, merely stopped twiddling his thumbs and began to look quite excited.

BRRRRING!

"Well...aren't you going to answer that?" Mulch asked sweetly.

"Oh! Um...maybe you could answer it, this time? I've got a...thing. With a...fairy."

BRRRRING!

"Doodah, we've been over this. You are the receptionist, which means you answer the phones."

"Well, maybe I don't want to, today!"

BRRRRING!

"Well, maybe I don't want to pay you, this week. Or next week. I hear you just got a niiiiiice stereo put in Abigail On your own credit line, in fact."

BRRRRING!

"Grrrr...I mean..." Doodah was actually visibly sweating now, trying to look everywhere but at the phone or Mulch.

"A pity. Those holes they leave in cars when a stereo is removed are quite unsightly."

BRRRRING!

"ALL RIGHT!" Doodah Day screeched. Covering his eyes with one hand, as if he expected the phone to morph into a deformed puppy if he watched, the pixie snatched up the phone. "Diggums and Diggums, Day speaking."

Mulch smiled and stood, returning to the back office for the rest of the day. 'Frond above and below, I do love that elf's style.'

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: Butler visits the City of Lights and Artemis learns about one of his less discussed talents.**


	3. Au contraire, mon frère

**Chapter 3: Au contraire, mon frère**

**September 29, 2008- Paris, France**

Butler did not like the look Artemis was giving him. He had seen that smile on his face before, and it tended to show right before his charge did something terribly clever. These "terribly clever" things tended to put his friends (and occasionally a good portion of the world) in incredible danger did little to alleviate the Eurasian bodyguard's nerves.

Butler also did not like that they were standing in the middle of a crowded Parisian street. The fact that this section of the city seemed to be play-acting as the stereotypical outsider's view of Paris (complete with a bakery selling little beyond croissants and baguettes; a waiter in a black and white striped shirt, beret, and obviously fake mustache; and at least five pink-dyed miniature poodles) merely served to irritate him.

Artemis glances at this watch, shooting Butler an exasperated look. "Well?"

Butler spread his arms, palms up in a pleading gesture. "This is a tricky situation, Artemis. You are dealing with a very insular society, and you are not exactly their 'favorite person' of late."

Artemis, who had decided to go casual on this trip, flicked imaginary dust off his charcoal sport coat "While I do appreciate the secretive nature of Madame Ko, I can only respect the wishes of one insular society at a time. The People take precedence. Call her, if you please."

'Wilting' would be a good adjective to describe Butler's reaction to Artemis's request. He actually slouched, putting a series of unsightly wrinkles in his suit and reducing his height by a good 15 centimeters. Even his bald head, normally shaved and shined to an impressive gleam, seemed to dull. "Well...to tell the truth, Artemis...I'd rather you didn't see this."

Artemis looked affronted, but he was somewhat intrigued. The bodyguard never willingly left his side when off Fowl Manor grounds. In fact, Butler actually had to be ordered to _not_ stand outside a stall door should his charge need to use a public restroom. For Butler to admit that he did not want Artemis around indicated that the situation was either _very_ dangerous or otherwise uncomfortable for the generally unflappable man. "What is the matter, old friend? You never discussed this...hindrance before, and there was certainly enough time on the Cessna."

"Well, I had hoped you would have come up with something else by now. I mean, Foaly is a technical genius, and even the Academy isn't completely trackless."

Artemis nodded at this, but flapped his hand, as if to dislodge the statement. "Madame Ko will be displeased enough with our arrival without having us mysteriously appear with no reasonable explanation for how we found her."

Butler sighed and rubbed his head, his fingers actually faintly squeaking on the smooth surface. "Well, I already said she's irritated with us. And...well, Madame Ko has an _interesting_ sense of humor. I'd really rather you—"

"Butler." Artemis laid a hand on his bodyguard's forearm. "Which would be more dangerous for me, standing next to you or hiding away while you contact your sensei?"

Sighing, Butler hung his head. "I suppose more people have died from a Softnose Laser than from embarrassment..." He caught Artemis's eye. Despite technically being the employee of the Fowl heir, his next words were unquestionably an order. "You will tell _no one_ about this. Not even Holly, and _especially_not Juliet. She'd fly here just to see the video."

After spending a few moments being taken aback, Artemis nodded and rested with his hands behind his back, waiting for his bodyguard to use whatever signal he was so reluctant to give. Perhaps he should have brought a miniature camera of his own, though he knew it would simply be confiscated once they entered Madame Ko's current stronghold. Still, a LEP iris-cam, perhaps...

Butler straightened up, pulling on the bottom edge of his suit jacket to make it fit more snugly against his massive chest. He cleared his throat into one hand and hummed, his tone moving up and down the scale before settling on a near-perfect B-flat. This was unfortunate for Artemis, who had perfect pitch, and who found this minor flaw in tone almost as irritating as the proverbial 'nails on a chalkboard'. Before he could urge his bodyguard to adjust slightly sharper, Butler moved from his side and Artemis spent the next three minutes in stunned silence.

Butler stepped forward, bringing his hands together in a double fist directly below his sternum. He raised his head slightly, aiming his mouth at the row of apartments above the shops. Then he opened his mouth and the square was filled with a booming song in a perfect Parisian accent.

"Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, Domovoi? Domovoi? Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines! Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, DONG!"

At the last note, he stepped even farther forward, spreading his hands in front of him and holding for several bars. The short song ended, and the street was filled with an embarrassed silence for quite a few moments before one confused tourist clapped. The rest of the crowd quickly joined in and Butler bowed, his face a deep red. From the back of the restaurant (Artemis suspected the waiter, but did not look in time to make sure), someone yelled "It's 'dormez-vous'!" Butler coughed at this and darted his eyes around, hoping his contact would appear before anyone else lectured him on his musical prowess.

Artemis began to feel a slight twinge in his stomach when no one approached them following the song. He was about to suggest that they leave the area (having quite spectacularly brought the attention of an entire crowded Parisian street upon them) when a lithe woman passed by, rather unnecessarily slamming her shoulder into Butler's chest. Artemis caught the barest hint of a blue diamond on her shoulder, under her opaque white shirt. A few seconds after she passed, Butler veered off after her and Artemis found himself forced to jog after the pair. Panting slightly at the exertion, he finally broke his trance and addressed the manservant. "If that is what Madame Ko makes you do when she is irritated, I would certainly hate to truly anger to woman."

Butler nodded. "I saw someone who did that once. Lost a principal. Literally, just lost him in the middle of a convention. He has a few...er...public indecency charges against him in about a dozen countries, now."

Artemis tried not to think of this, especially considered the rather progressive public nudity laws in the last few countries Madame Ko had placed the Academy. He finally managed to take his place beside Butler as they entered the back alleys, looking up at his bodyguard and smirking. "Still...nice baritone, old friend."

"Shut up, Artemis.

* * *

**Next week on _Fowl Shorts_: Everybody, look at your hands.**


	4. We're falling apart to halftime

**Chapter 4: We're falling apart to halftime**

**November 13, 2008-Ireland, Fowl Manor**

For the first time in Haven's history, a Mud Man was being brought into the city. Voluntarily. With no crisis in sight! Admittedly, the Opal escape was a high priority, but the pixie hadn't yet moved against the People. No, this visit was for _diplomatic_ purposes, in order to combine resources to hunt Koboi.

Holly was highly annoyed.

"I told you, Artemis, we are on a tight schedule! I'm supposed to be pretending that I'm up here for the Ritual."

Artemis was shoving her into a guest room, his own irritation closely matching the elf's. "Well, if you hadn't de-shielded right in front of Juliet, I wouldn't have to deal with a hysterical professional wrestler breaking through her mind-wipe!"

Holly threw up her hands, thus losing her hold on the door's frame and staggering into the room. "You never said she was visiting!" The major protested. In light of the Koboi escape, Juliet was to have her mind-wipe broken through, to help her avoid a possible attack from the crafty pixie. Unfortunately, it was to be removed in a _controlled_ setting, under Foaly's supervision. The Council would not be pleased. "Besides, how was I supposed to know she'd be in the gym?"

"Perhaps because she is a professional wrestler, and working out is about _all_ she does?" Artemis gave her a last push, planting her squarely in the room before he retreated towards the door.

Holly snorted. "Oh, yes, she wrestles in that outfit? She looked like a hooker."

Artemis reluctantly nodded in agreement. "You have obviously never watched human wrestling." Not wanting to explain, he retreated to the door. "Just wait here for a few minutes until we calm her down." Before the elf could protest, he slammed the door.

Holly clenched her fists and tried to release her anger without breaking something. She counted slowly, but when she reached to fifty, she realized that she would not calm down unless she broke something or distracted herself. Grumbling about security nightmares and "need to know," she began to explore the room.

It was decorated in true Fowl fashion, a mixture of centuries-old antiques and cutting-edge technology. The queen-sized canopy bed stood in the very center of the room, away from the walls and bathed in light from the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was covered in suitcases and duffel bags sporting the "Luchadores Colosos de México" logo, so Juliet was obviously claiming this room as her home. With the hand that was not holding her helmet, Holly lifted a tube of stretchy gold fabric from the bed. This couldn't be a skirt. And it couldn't be a shirt. Surely?

A flash of burnished silver caught Holly's eye. On the bed, under where the skirt had lain, was a palm sized electronic device with a screen that covered about half of the front and a wheel interface on the bottom half, with a pair of earbud headphones sticking out of the bottom. She was familiar with these, though mostly in a historical context. It was the current Mud Man version of a portable music player.

Holly set her helmet down and picked up the device. It was at least fairly intuitive, and she was soon navigating through the selections. She was vaguely familiar with some of the older bands, but the People did have their own versions of popular music, though there was a good number of cover bands for human music. The fairy Jazz and Swing style were particularly popular. Thus, she was not tempted by any of the selections until she went under the playlists and found one titled "Getting Ready."

'Hmm...maybe Juliet is a bit better at_ that_ than Artemis.' She looked at the door and balanced her options. Juliet was a fairly rational girl, but even Artemis had taken a while to process everything from his mind-wipe reversal. She would probably be freaked out for another 30 minutes, and the playlist only had five songs... Surely she wouldn't mind if Holly checked it out?

Fairies, and elves in particular, love music. The popular images of a ring of dancing fairies were not too far off from the truth, but the circle tended to be a bit more crowded, resembling more a mosh pit than a circle dance. Unable to resist, Holly put the headphones in her ears, closed her eyes, and pushed play.

The playlist began rather sedately, with a woman crooning about having a day left of...something, and a desire for tranquilizers, before switching into a rather angry and fast repeat of the theme. The playlist transitioned into a tribute to the American woman, though it was coupled with a desire to keep her at a distance. The next song, in Romanian, was about Picasso answering the phone and his lover's desire to take him with her. Very odd, but it had a strong dancing beat. This was followed by a Korean song about dreaming of paradise.

Holly had managed to remain still...for about the first minute of the playlist. Then she began to bounce along with the music. She was soon twisting her hips, sinking to the ground before springing back up, hands trailing along her legs as she rose. She was undulating her body from toes to head, her hands running through her short-cropped hair as she mouthed along to the choruses. Her hair was short, but she managed to muss it up, along with her normally crisp uniform, with the rhythmic motions.

On the fifth and last song, she bounced along to a treatise on safety, friends who dance, and a declaration that non-dancing friends were not friends at all. Near the end, she was ordered to look at her hands. She put them in front of her face and opened her eyes.

Then she froze in horror.

Artemis was sitting, cross legged on the bed, one elbow on his knee, cheek resting on his hand. He was smiling, obviously trying to hold in his laughter. He had managed to sneak in while she was focused on the music, but he must have moved almost completely silently to get past the LEP officer without alerting her. The boy said nothing, but his playful eyes urged her to dance on.

Holly ripped the headphones from her ears and tossed the music player on Juliet's bed. She grabbed the helmet and held it in front of her to ward him off. "Time to go?"

With his free hand, Artemis gestured towards the door. "If you're ready. Butler is explaining everything to Juliet."

She hesitated. Artemis was perhaps justifiably amused, but...that grin never boded well. He was not above blackmail, and this was a perfect opportunity. "I need to see the security room, first," she demanded, raising her chin defiantly.

Artemis sighed. "Holly, you wound me. Mum has forbidden me to place any surveillance in the bedrooms, including the guest bedrooms. No one in this house has been recording you, I swear."

Holly searched his face for a moment before nodding. "Good. I will see you in the main hall, then." With as much dignity as she could muster, she turned on her heel and marched out of the door.

Artemis sat for a few moments, staring at the ornate ring on his pinky finger. When the stone began to flash, he mimed answering a phone. "Foaly, please tell me you got that."

From the other end, the centaur snorted. "She puts _my_ helmet on the bed, and you doubt my monitors? I've got one question for you, Mud Boy."

"Yes, Foaly?"

"Do you still use those ridiculous mini discs?"

"No, a micro-SD card should be sufficient, and a lot easier to hide from Holly. I owe you one."

"Oh, you have no idea."

* * *

**Juliet's "Getting Ready" playlist: 1) "I Wanna Be Sedated" by Diana Gone Wrong; 2) "American Woman" by Lenny Kravitz; 3) "Dragostea Din Tei" by O-Zone; 4) "Imagine" by Brunch; 5) "The Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats**

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: Swear toads, and how to turn Artemis into a complete idiot.**


	5. Fowl mouthed, Short lived

**Chapter 5: Fowl mouthed, Short lived**

**November 14, 2008-The Lower Elements, Haven, E1 Shuttleport dock**

Artemis did not like traveling without Butler, but the Council's order had been quite clear: Artemis was allowed in Haven, but only if escorted by a fairy, and with no weapons. Butler had been classified as a weapon in Haven, so he had growled briefly at Holly before letting his principal join her in the shuttle without him. So, here Artemis was, on the Haven end of the E1 shuttleport, without his bodyguard.

He felt naked.

"Seriously, Holly, I don't see why Butler couldn't come along. He has been just as involved with the Koboi case as either of us, and he could at least protect me if the People do not take kindly to my presence."

Holly pursed her lips. It was obvious she agreed with him, but was forced to follow LEP guidelines. "The Council seemed concerned that you'd conquer Haven from within. They thought you'd be easier to take down without Butler." She grabbed his arm just below the elbow and held tight, guiding him towards the exit. "Now, stay close. We'll be taking a back route to Police Plaza, which means we'll need to walk. No one should know that you're here, but..."

"Wonderful," Artemis muttered, "I am staking my life on a bunch of fairies keeping their mouths shut."

Holly wanted to be offended, but she had seen a few too many security leaks to protest too vehemently. "Well, if you are horribly maimed, I'll just heal you."

"I do not find that terribly comforting."

Holly smiled as the shuttleport doors hissed open. "It wasn't meant to be."

The LEP had timed things well. It was noon above ground, and thus in the middle of the primarily nocturnal People's sleeping hours. Only a few late-day revelers were out, and none of them seemed interested in the vacant shuttleport. Holly nodded in approval and dragged Artemis into the nearest dark alley.

Foaly often lectured his human allies on their lack of cleanliness as a species, but apparently no sentient race could have an alley without also having slimy alley trash. Artemis wrinkled his nose at the smell of rotting vegetation. He wanted to pinch his nostrils, but he needed his hand free to balance as his smooth-bottomed shoes skidded over the debris.

There were no noticeable insects, but that was likely due to the infestation of toads. They were smart enough to stick to the walls, for the most part, but a particularly large green one with orange spots sat quite stubbornly in the middle of the path. Holly hopped over it easily, but Artemis saw the amphibian only after Holly had cleared it, and barely managed to avoid squashing it. The toe of his shoe brushed against one of the amphibians pustules, jostling the creature.

"Fuck!"

Artemis stared at Holly's back. She had let out her share of "d'arvits," but he considered the elf to be mostly level-headed and clean-mouthed. "Excuse me?"

Holly looked over her shoulder at him and took a bit of time to process his shock. "Oh...no, that wasn't me. Swear toads."

Artemis was, understandably, skeptical. "Swear toads," he repeated, voice as flat as it could be while he panted slightly from the exertion of following Holly. Despite the fact that her legs were much shorter than his, he was forced to move his legs at almost double her rate to keep up. She was simply taking much longer strides, not having to worry about slipping in her much more reasonable shoes.

Guessing that Fowl did not believe her, Holly stopped in front of a trio of toads perched on a trash can. She pointed them out. "Swear toads. Some college students thought it would be funny to give toads the power of speech...foul speech, precisely. They got free of the lab, and now they're an unstoppable infestation. Watch." She poked each amphibian in turn.

"Shit!"

"Bastard!"

"Dang!"

They stared at the last toad. "I'm...fairly certain that couldn't be considered a swear word," Artemis admitted.

Holly smiled and pointed at the toad's rather lumpy backside. "Eggs. She's going to be a mother." Indeed, like the midwife toad, this animal was ladened with slimy eggs, some of which had tadpoles swimming inside.

Now Artemis was forced to remove his gaze from the toad and stare at Holly, as if she were mad. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Her tone made it should like the answer was obvious. "Well, she wants to clean up her act for the kids."

"Holly...they're _swear toads_."

Holly stiffened, indignant. "Well, that doesn't mean she wants to pass on her bad habits."

Artemis wanted to point out the utter ridiculousness of this statement, but Holly was so serious that he decided to let it go. He'd ask Foaly about this later. Still, he was fascinated. A creature could certainly be genetically altered to be capable of speech, but to pre-program them with a vocabulary (even a filthy one) was a true marvel. He would love to write a paper on them, though he doubted he would be allowed to publish it in a human science journal. "Does each only say one word?" He reached out to the "bastard" toad and poked it.

Holly reached out a moment too late. "No, they're very irritable!"

Before she could move his hand away, the toad chomped down on the boy's finger. Now Artemis was the one cursing, wrenching his arm back. The frog came with his arm for a moment before being jostled free, flying halfway across the alley with a disgruntled "asshole!" before landing in another group of toads, sending off a chain reaction of swearing across the alley.

Sucking air through his teeth, Artemis shook his hand, trying to alleviate the pain. "D'arvit, that stings! Why do they even have teeth?"

Holly rummaged in one of the small knapsacks on her hips, pulling out a piece of twine. "They couldn't get full pronunciation without somewhere to place their tongue." She tied the twine around his index finger. "Now, hold still. Their poison won't kill you, but it will swell up your hand if we don't get it out before doing a healing."

Before Artemis could truly comprehend what Holly was saying, the elf was sucking on his finger. He did his best to remain as dignified as possible, but...well, she was sicking on his finger. There is little that can distract a fifteen-year-old from that fact, even if he is a genius. His only saving grace was that Holly occasionally stopped to spit, thus triggering a little nausea. Which, of course, quickly dissipated once her mouth was back around his finger.

"H-holly?"

She looked up, his finger still quite comfortably in her mouth. The sight of her mis-matched eyes looking up at him almost made him lose his control completely.

"I...can deal with a little swelling." 'In fact,' he thought, 'I believe I already am.'

Realizing exactly what she was doing, Holly backed away quickly, flushing. "Great!" She tried to sound chipper, but she was clearly unnerved, stretching her arm out full length so she could barely brush Artemis's fingers and send in a few healing sparks. Once that was done, she pulled her hand back as if she feared it would be bitten as well. "Done."

"Well...thank you." Artemis's voice cracked and he mentally kicked himself. 'Blasted puberty!' "I'm glad you knew what to do."

She nodded, setting off down the alley again, her charge following close behind. "Oh, yeah. I had a run in with a swear toad a few years ago, when I was on a patrol. No one would help get the poison out. It was...quite unpleasant."

Wanting to disperse or at least reassign his embarrassment, Artemis feigned interest. "Really? Where did it get you?"

Holly squeezed her fists, causing her black gloves to creak. The back of her neck and ears (possibly more of her body, but that was all Artemis could see from his angle) turned an even deeper shade of red. Her voice was deliberately nonchalant as she replied. "My...er...left buttock."

Artemis's brain was still addled. Perhaps if Butler been present he could have prevented what came next, but even the master bodyguard had his limits when faced with the bad decisions of a hormone-filled teenage boy. Artemis wanted to ask Holly what she had done to get bit there, but what came out was: "What, no one wanted to help you suck it out? I mean, it's really quite nice." Then Artemis did easily _the_ stupidest thing he had ever done.

He reached out and patted Holly's rear.

Dangerous animals give off a certain vibe that triggers the "fight or flight" response in humans and other animals. Apparently, dangerous fairies also gave off this vibe, and Artemis was feeling it quite strongly in the aftermath of the poking. He had the opportunity to either run or try to defend himself, and the decision was made purely on instinct. Unfortunately for Artemis, his instinct took in the elf's small stature and chose to stand. Artemis could not fight.

Holly could.

She dropped to the ground, sweeping her leg back and into Artemis's ankles. His flat-bottomed shoes slid easily on the slimy alley paving. Artemis was suspended for an instant, parallel to the ground.

Then he was down, grit and ooze seeping through his teeth. He gagged and spat, trying to get the muck out. This was dirt only a dwarf could love. He momentarily feared that Holly would be ready to bring him down again, should he try to stand, but when he looked up she was already at the end of the alley, waiting. He called to her, weakly. "Sorry."

Holly acknowledged his apology with a prominent middle finger.

Slipping a bit on the slime, Artemis stood up. Exasperated at both himself and the fairy, he ran a hand through his hair, thoroughly covering it in slime. When he took his hand away, half of his well-manicured hair lay in its normal pattern: softly textured, and just below his ears. The other half stuck up like a bad Japanese action cartoon hero, held up by the ooze. He grimaced and dropped his hands to his side. Ooze got on his suit, which was already thoroughly ruined. Only one word seemed to fit in his mouth.

"Fuck!"

* * *

**Next week on _Fowl Shorts_: Fairy cuisine and more Artemis torturing.**


	6. Nom nom nom

**Chapter 6: Nom nom nom**

**November 16, 2008-The Lower Elements, Haven, "Juicy Burger" diner**

Artemis Fowl was horrified. He had been studying the People for years and had come to greatly respect the ancient culture. When man was still working on the basics of fire and medicine, fairies were developing the first combustion engine and performing organ transplants. In all respects (except perhaps a neck-and-neck race in women's rights), they were far advanced of humans. So how was it that Holly was willing to do something so...repulsive?

He pointed at corner of his lips. "You've got...a leg..."

Holly looked up from her burger, causing Artemis to heave slightly. An orange and black tarantula leg stuck out from the side of her mouth, pointed down like a furry tusk. She swallowed her mouthful and sucked the leg in like a piece of spaghetti. "Sorry, they're a bit messy," she said, crunching around the leg, "but worth it." She noticed his untouched plate. "Need some ketchup? Most fairies don't like it on tarantula burgers, but I can get the waiter to bring some."

Artemis held up a hand to stop Holly before she summoned the help. "I'm...I don't need ketchup." He wasn't 'fine,' as he had been about to say. He was never letting Holly order his meals again. "I though fairies were vegetarians?"

"You've met Mulch, and you think fairies are all vegetarians?"

He nodded. "Point taken, though I assumed that you were, at least."

She shook her head and sucked juice off of her fingers. "I don't eat anything I can talk to. Pretty common with fairies, actually, and it basically limits us to insects and fish." Noticing the lull in conversation that followed these words, she looked down at Artemis's plate and waved at it impatiently. "Well? Go on!"

Now he darted his eyes down, as if the contents of his plate had changed in the last 30 seconds. No luck. The same burger bun (Artemis wasn't certain he had even eaten a hamburger in the last _year_, but it was hard to mistake such a thing) with lettuce, tomato, sauces, onions, pickles, and eight spindly orange and black legs sticking out like compass points. He looked back up. "Um...perhaps something else?"

Holly actually looked disappointed, but she began flipping through the menu. "They make an okay grub pot pie."

"I don't like _Grub_. I really doubt I'd enjoy his namesake."

Holly nodded, trailing her finger down the text. "Yes, he kind of ruins it for me, too. Vole curry?"

"You mean those little rodents? Big teeth? Burrow a lot?" Artemis mimed rodent teeth, wiggling his index fingers in front of his lips.

"Yes, is there another kind of vole among humans?"

"No, and no."

"Fried earthworms? Mulch tells me they taste just like calamari."

"I can't believe I kissed you."

Holly looked offended. "Hey, I kissed you, if you recall."

Having got the reaction he had been seeking, Artemis smiled. "I do. I just wanted you to admit it."

In order to hide her flush, Holly hid behind the menu for a few minutes. "Well, your other options are a salad or pizza."

Now the grin turned vampiric. In a deep voice, with a twinge of an accent that Holly roughly centered in Romania (though she was sure she was missing something in his tone), he teased: "I don't eat...pizza."

Holly rubbed her temples. Why, oh why did the Council put her in charge of the Mud Boy? She waived the waiter over and ordered a simple salad. The pixie looked reproachfully at Artemis as he removed the house specialty. When he was gone, Holly leaned across her food and glared at him. "Vinyáya told me to watch out for you, and I've got to say that a fairy-sized salad isn't going to stay with you for very long."

"I'll live," he assured her.

Holly huffed. "You mean you'll survive. I swear, you Mud Men are so boring!"

Artemis glared at Holly, actually a bit offended. Since their first meeting, he had defeated the entire LEP, stopped a goblin uprising, rescued his father from the Mafiya, overthrown a ruthless tech tycoon, defeated a megalomaniac pixie (twice), and traveled back in time. "Boring?" He inquired, tapping a finger next to his left eye to remind her.

"I mean..." she sighed, obviously disappointed that she had to explain herself to him. "Take human television. You have an entire set of channels devoted to the amazing places on Earth you could travel to, and the majority of the viewers will never leave their country. You have another set devoted to fine cooking, and more than 50 million people eat at McDonald's every day. Then you have another set on the amazing animals of the world, and yet humans let new species die off all the time because it is too inconvenient to save them!"

Artemis nodded, somber. "Certainly, there is that, but you cannot write off an entire species because a few of their members have some bad traits." He frowned. This was not a very strong argument. "After all, if I had judged fairy culture on what you have told me, I would think you were a species of misogynist pigs."

Artemis had hit a vein. Holly slammed her hands on the table, spilling a good deal of their waters and catching the attention of nearer diners. She leapt onto her seat so she could look Artemis in the eye as she leaned over the table. Her eyes were livid, weighing down on the boy and pinning him in his seat. "Look, I'll admit that the LEP was a bit backwards, but fairies have _nothing_ on humans. I mean, let's just narrow things down to how you manage your birth rate."

'I am going to lose this argument so badly.'

"The only option you have that doesn't 'ruin the mood,' as you say to excuse your irresponsibility, is left entirely to the woman, both in remembering to take medication on time and the financial burden of getting said medication. It's known to put them at risk of everything from weight gain to depression to strokes! You've had over 45 years to create an equivalent option for men, and what have humans come up with?"

Artemis heard the clopping of hooves and approaching conversations. He prayed that the rest of the Koboi task force had come to join them for their meal. 'No. 1, please save me!'

"The 'little blue pill'!" Holly snarled.

Foaly, No. 1, Qwan, Wing commander Vinyáya, Reconnaissance Commander Kelp, and at least a dozen other LEP officers entered the dining area.

"So let me congratulate you on your _four hour ERECTION_!"

Dead silence.

It took Holly quite a while to calm down enough to note the horror on Artemis's face. Very slowly and jerkily, she turned her head, following the path of his eyesight.

Vinyáya's jaw was clenched, but Trouble's was hanging down. Foaly's normally pert tail dragged the floor. No. 1 was clutching at his ears, while Qwan held his stomach as he shook in laughter. The rest of the LEP were varying shades, including the white of horror, disgusted green, and red from a lack of air, due to withheld laughter.

She needed a distraction. Something to make them forget what they had just heard. Koboi arriving and proclaiming that she was going to destroy them all would have been convenient, but the pixie was not in an obliging mood. So Holly grabbed the only thing that caught her attention.

She thrust a hairy tarantula leg in Artemis's face. "Eat the spider."

"_What?_" He tried to jump back, but his large human legs had little room to move in the fairy diner's booth. Before he could slide out to safety, Holly had jumped the booth table and was standing on the end of his seat. She closed in, poking at his lips with the arachnid's severed limb.

"Eat it!"

Artemis bit his lips and shook his head. "NUH!" He grunted, closing his eyes, as if that would make the delicacy disappear.

"Come on, take in some culture!" She grabbed his chin, holding his head in place. When he did not acquiesce, she recalled the one occasion she had helped Foaly give Jayjay a pill. She stuck her index finger into the back edge of Artemis's cheek, wedging it between his rear molars. His mouth opened slightly, but to boy merely stretched his lips to cover the gap and bit down. Holly winced slightly at the pressure on her finger

Qwan finally managed to break off from his seizure of laughter, though only just long enough to worsen the situation. "Careful, Mud Boy, or you might just sever her finger again."

For an instant, Artemis slackened his bite, but that instant was all Holly needed. She slid her finger across to his other set of molars and angled her hand, levering his mouth open. While Artemis was still being merciful and not clamping down, she shoved the spider leg inside and wrapped her arms around his head, holding his mouth closed with one hand.

Artemis thrashed his head like a wild horse being introduced to a bit, but there was no escaping. The stiff leg of the tarantula poked his cheek, scratching the sensitive skin and sending a roll of nausea through his body. Artemis forced himself to chew rapidly, then he made a show of swallowing. When Holly did not release him, he slammed his hand next to his glass of water and whimpered in distress. Whether she recognized this as a submissive tap-out of a request to wash the spider down, Holly let him go.

In quick succession, Artemis downed his entire glass of water and then Holly's glass. He gasped and rested his forehead on the table. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Trouble massaged his temples. "Me, too."

Holly preened.

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: Artemis causes some existential angst when he introduces the LEP to an Internet phenomena.**


	7. I can has better punchline?

**Chapter 7: I can has better punchline?**

**November 18, 2008-Haven University**

"It's a...what?" Caballine said, trailing her fingers on the touchpad of Artemis's laptop. Behind her, a small group of fairies of all species and various professions were looking over her shoulder. The collection included a few LEP officers, college professors, and even medical professionals. They looked either intrigued or dismissive, which surprised Artemis, who had been expecting at least slight amusement. Upon finding that Artemis Fowl was in Haven, the People's experts in human culture had scrambled to interview the genius on some of the more puzzling aspects of Western Civilization.

"It's a non-genetic unit of cultural information. Think of schoolyard games: children have a relatively short period of time to learn and pass on the rules of games like 'Hopscotch,' but they have a remarkably high rate of transference."

Caballine, who had agreed to watch over Artemis during this discussion (Holly had opted out, sensing a disaster), flipped her tail around skeptically. "I've found entries about this all over your Internet. Why can't this be considered regular information, like you would find in a school textbook?"

Artemis moved his hands in soft, slow circles, choosing his words carefully. "The primary method of transference is person-to-person. Either someone is e-mailed a set of these pictures or they find a link on a known website. There are even services that will semi-randomly direct you to these images." He nodded at her, acknowledging a good question. Caballine had been an excellent choice to help in this meeting. The combination of art and newscasting in her background was perfect for an interview on human culture.

Of course, when a conversation derailment is approaching, there is little that can be done to stop it. An older pixie, his black hair intermittently lined with gray, cleared his throat to catch the group's attention. "Very informative, Mr. Fowl, but I believe that we all want to know is...where is the bucket?"

Artemis, who had been firmly neutral during this discussion on his own culture felt his composure disintegrate as he descended into hilarity. Or at least hilarity for him. He clutched his sides, shaking with silent laughter, managing to barely squeak out a few words. "Where...bucket...serious?" When he gained control of himself less than a minute later, he looked up to see that all present, including Caballine, looked slightly offended. The questioning pixie was actually pouting. "You mean...you were serious?"

All nodded, the pixie piping up to say, "Of course. Do you humans get some sick pleasure out of seeing animals in pain?" He grimaced before continuing. "No, that is common knowledge. What I mean to say is that I thought that you had to be present to enjoy to the pain, but these pictures..."

The man raised a hand to ward off the accusation. "No, no! The walrus—seal, actually—was doing a trick!"

"Then...where is the bucket?"

Artemis threw his hands in the air. "There is no bucket!"

A young female sprite in the back seemed to light up from within, a huge smile crossing her face. "It's a metaphor!"

Hands still in the air, Artemis jerked his head to a slight tilt, looking remarkably like a confused Jayjay. "A met...no, it isn't!"

The sprite drummed her hands on her table, almost dancing in excitement. "Yes! The seal longs for his bucket, which is really his heart's desire! Yet, while he desires it, he shall not only never obtain it, but it also does not exist, much as we often desire things that are impossible." She stopped briefly, smiling smugly at the group of older fairies that surrounded her. "It's, like, _sooooo_ deep!"

Everyone stared at the young sprite.

Slowly, Cabaline leaned towards Artemis and whispered. "English literature and theory specialist."

He nodded somberly.

A ringing came from the computer, causing the human and centaur to visibly loosen. Caballine closed the laptop and began shooing the attendants out. "Time is up. Artemis Fowl needs to get back to the surface." There was general grumbling, but the assembly finally dispersed.

Caballine sat back on her haunches, obviously drained. She shot Artemis a dirty look. "Memes, Artemis? Seriously?"

He shrugged. "They were stumped. Given, it is a rather ill-researched Internet phenomena that should be given more focus by cultural anthro-"

Caballine held up a hand. "Don't. Just...don't." She sighed. "I need a vacation."

Artemis did his best to look genuinely concerned. "If there is anything I can do..." He trailed off, fairly certain that there was nothing he could do to help a centaur news anchor.

Her smile was not precisely friendly. "I'm afraid you'll regret that offer, Artemis."

And he would.

In about seven chapters.

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: Holly must assure Artemis, it happens to everyone the first time.**


	8. Little deuce coupe

**Chapter 8: Little deuce coup**

**November 24, 2010-Undisclosed Location**

As the primary contacts on the Koboi team, Artemis Fowl and Holly Short were expected to be in near-constant contact, which suited the two "bonded by trauma" friends quite well. Thus, when Holly paused in the middle of her paperwork for Reconnaissance (though she worked for Section 8, it was still considered a "secret" section of the LEP, necessitating a sort of part-time position in a more official branch) and glanced at her two-way communicator, immediately exploding from her chair and making a bee-line for the E1 chute, everyone in her office expected that an attack was in progress. The reality was more more mundane.

_Holly,_

_I have passed my driving test (though just barely, as, apparently, J-turns are not an acceptable driving maneuver, no matter what Butler claims) and am on my way to select my first personal car. Butler is none too pleased._

_Artemis_

_Artemis,_

_Stall. I'm on my way. Don't you dare pick without me._

_Holly_

In what was apparently record time for the LEP, Holly had commandeered a shuttle and was at Artemis's side in an undeveloped field full of cars. Noting the complete lack of cameras and the few (though very well-armed) guards, she found a position out of sight from any other humans and de-shielded, punching Artemis's hip to get his attention. "Evening, Mud Boy." She clapped her hands together, rubbing them eagerly.

Artemis rubbed his hip and frowned at the violent female. "Enjoying your diplomatic passport, I see."

"I have never been so happy that Koboi is on the loose." Given the often rapid nature of Opal's schemes, the Council had smoothed Holly's way through customs by giving her free access to the surface, though she was required to justify her trips to Vinyáya. She would need to make up an excuse for this jaunt, but "false alarm" seemed like a good excuse to try.

"So," she looked about at the array of cars in the field, which ranged in age from a few surprisingly well-preserved Model Ts to a few concept cars awaiting a year-distant release. For the most part, there was only one car for each model, but that still meant that the lot was filled with a good three hundred cars. "Typical Fowl deal, I see. Unofficial and likely temporary location, all cash, using fake names, and possibly illegal."

"Oh, no, entirely legal, but you did forget the part about utmost secrecy."

"Well, that went without saying." Holly finally noted an odd absence and furrowed her eyebrows. "Where's Butler?"

Artemis looked chagrined. "Picking a few suitable models. Apparently, I'm not allowed to pick any car I please until my life is no longer in constant danger."

Holly winced. "Ouch. You'll be driving a tank until you're sixty, the way you work."

The boy nodded solemnly. Before he could continue, the aforementioned bodyguard trotted up, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

"Artemis, I've found the perfect car. It's...Holly." He looked down at the major, his tone revealing strong disapproval.

Holly was surprised. Butler generally seemed fond of her, as she was one of the few people with whom he could have a coherent conversation on projectile weapons and military tactics. "Er...hello Butler." She smiled as companionably as she could, but his glower only strengthened.

"They've pulled the cars into the center of the lot." He gestured towards his selection, but did not move. Artemis looked between his two physically fit friends for a few moments before shrugging and walking off. Holly was about to follow when Butler's massive hand clamped onto her head, jerking her to a halt so abrupt that her spine actually popped. "Not so fast, little fairy."

Holly looked up at him, offended. "I was about to shield!"

Butler shook his head. "It's not secrecy I'm worried about. It's safety. Artemis's, in particular."

Now she was perplexed. "How is my being here endangering Artemis?"

Butler snorted in disbelief. "Holly...I've seen you drive. Or fly, as it were. The last thing Artemis needs is a hot-shot female pilot urging him to get the edgiest car in the lot."

This set off alarms in Holly's head. "Butler," she said, swallowing a bit nervously, "exactly what type of cars did you pick out for Artemis?"

Her answer was a "_what in the_—_"_ filled with outrage coming from the center of the field. When Butler did not run to his charge's aid, merely shaking his head, Holly's suspicions were confirmed. She shielded and both made their way to the lineup.

Artemis was horrified, as was Holly when she saw the selections. The car ranged from five to ten years old, which was not so much a problem, given that they would be gutted for hybridization and bulletproofing. The _true_ problem was in the frames themselves. Three Hummer-sized monstrosities dominated the lineup, flanked by two vans that looked capable of holding ten unruly children. Next was a short series of station wagons, most with fake wood paneling that Holly was surprised to see outside of the 1970s. These were accompanied by an array of trucks (Holly could not imagine Artemis _riding_ in a truck, much less driving one), all of which required a ladder to ascend to the inside. Two even had _camper shells_. There was not a sports car, nor even a simple sedan or compact. Most egregious of all, each of the vehicles had large dents, poorly tinted windows, or at least one panel of missing paint.

Holly loved all things fast, from magna-bikes (possibly the only perk of her stint in Traffic) to chute shuttles. The look she gave Butler (even if he couldn't see it, he could feel her gaze) was akin to what she would turn on someone who had just set fire to a bag full of orphaned kittens. "You're a monster."

Butler raised his voice to give the guards the impression that he was talking to Artemis. "These are the safest cars in the lot. Older models, so no one will carjack you. Big, so crashes are unlikely to cause major injuries...to you. And, of course, no one wants to look at the driver of a car with a blemish, so you're unlikely to be noticed. A simple bulletproofing and you'll be as safe as possible, short of having me with you."

Artemis spun away from the cars, crossing his arms in defiance. "I can not be seen driving one of these...things to a business meeting." He poked at a large dent on a trucks door, which made a popping noise akin to an unsealed jam jar's lid.

"You'd be chauffeured to business meetings, as you well know." Butler replied. His promptness made it apparent that he had practiced for this confrontation.

"I can't let _anyone_ see me in this!" Artemis's eyes darted to Butler's side, making it fairly clear who "anyone" was."

"You aren't supposed to 'advertise' your little jaunts until you're safe, anyway."

"It's undignified!"

"So is a body bag."

Holly had a sudden flash of genius and she suddenly knew how to bypass Butler's protests. "You're putting him in a...chick deflector!"

Artemis frowned momentarily, confused by this odd term, but he quickly schooled his expression to disapproval as he caught Holly's tone. "Truly, Butler?"

Butler was about to respond, also looking perplexed, but Holly broke in. "Of course he is! There aren't that many Butler's left, and with Juliet in the ring, he can't have her take on the next Fowl. So...make sure there _is_ no next Fowl."

Now Butler looked truly scandalized. His face began to develop a purple tint and the two shorter members of the trio began to worry that he would have a stroke. "I have never—I would never—I'm working on the kid thing!"

Artemis blinked. "Indeed? Who—"

"None of your bloody business! Now pick a car!"

Holly rolled her eyes. "This is ridiculous. Not only would Artemis never be caught dead in one of these, but I highly doubt that Angeline would let it near the manor." Despite being shielded, she spun around, gesturing at the surrounding cars. "I mean, any of these would be..."

Holly fell in love.

Artemis and Butler were made aware of this fact by a seemingly sourceless _clunk_ as her helmet thudded into a metal surface. Holly had, for all intents and purposes, tackle-hugged a car. "It's beautiful..." she moaned, beginning a slow circle around the vehicle.

Pursing his lips as if in consideration, Artemis followed her and listened to the commentary. Which actually went on for five minutes, listing everything from the shade of the car to the type of engine it was likely to have, ending with "Oooo! A sunroof!"

Pausing at the back, Artemis tilted his head, reading the model name. "Camaro..."

Out of nowhere to Artemis, though merely from behind a large black pickup to the more observant Holly and Butler, a squat man in a pinstripe suit emerged. "Ah, wonderful choice, yeeeeeees! Perfect for a man of your age and stature. A real 'chick magnet,' am I right?" He elbowed Artemis in the ribs, causing the boy to look at him in a mix of outrage and astonishment.

Despite Holly's reaction to the car, Artemis was about to deny it's woman-enticing properties, but was interrupted by Butler's arrival. "Now, wait a minute! You put that..._thing_ near my lineup on purpose!"

The car salesman, for there was nothing else he could be with his smooth yet slightly pushy demeanor, shrugged and smiled. "I'm a businessman. Call it 'up-selling.'"

"And I'm a human bulletproof vest." Butler growled. "I have not spent the last 20 years of my life protecting this boy to have him die in some...spectacular car crash!"

Artemis came forward and leaned against the driver's door, arms crossed. He looked remarkably at home in front of the silver car. "Butler, you know I am too mature to be speeding. Unless there is a good reason, of course, in which case blazing glory is likely to be a preferable death."

Butler frowned. "Then this is a theft waiting to happen."

"Oh, yes, Minerva was just telling me about all the carjackings our circle has fallen to when stopping off at Cartier and the Waldorf Astoria."

Now Butler was visibly loosing steam, actually slouching as his arguments were destroyed. "Then someone will be sure to notice you."

"Grey."

"...what?"

"We'll paint it dark gray. Normal threats, like old enemies of father, aren't likely to notice a gray car, and any of _my_ enemies aren't going to be fooled, even if you put me in some sort of...hooptie." He said the last word in two very distinct and disapproving syllables. _Hoop-tie._

Before the bodyguard could develop another argument, the salesman broke in. "Take her for a spin! The door is unlocked, keys are in the ignition! Take her out on your own and decide for _yourself_, _Master_ Fowl."

Moving swiftly, Artemis jerked the door open and stood a few feet from the entrance. "You know, that is a spectacular idea. Where to?"

The salesman swept his hand northward. "We've got a good 30km of farm road to try it on. All straight, though it is dirt, but you can still put her through a nice speed run."

Butler narrowed his eyes. The salesman, distracted by Artemis's question, had failed to notice the quick trail of indents that temporarily appeared across the driver's seat, which settled into an almost imperceptible depression in the passenger's seat. "I don't—"

"Superb!" Artemis launched himself into the driver seat, slammed the door, and started the engine. He took off through the array of cars and down the adjacent road, the engine constantly revving for over a mile down the street.

Butler shot a stern look at the salesman. "You didn't say it was a stick!"

He shrugged in response. "He's smart. He'll learn."

Inside the car, a de-shielded and un-helmeted Holly was panicking. "The engine! You'll ruin the engine! Shift gears!"

Artemis looked at her, surprised at the strong reaction. "How?"

"The clutch! Push the clutch down with your left foot and move the gears!"

Artemis had, of course, learned to drive in an automatic, but he had observed Butler drive with a manual transmission on occasion, so he was familiar with what Holly was demanding. Tentatively, he pressed on the leftmost pedal and moved his hand to the stick, hesitating in the transition.

Holly, however, was not pleased with his speed. She shot her hand out and covered Artemis's, moving the car into second.

Startled by the touch of the major's hand and already inclined to move his own, Artemis's arm jerked, suddenly shifting into fifth. The car responded with a few unpleasant clunks and silence as the engine stalled. They jerked to an awkward stop.

Holly drummed her fingers on the back of Artemis's hand for a few beats before realizing what she was doing and placing folded hands on her lap. She turned a small smile to her genius friend. "Well...it happens to everyone, the first time."

Artemis slammed his head on the steering wheel, causing the horn to blare continuously.

Quickly irritated by the sound, Holly grabbed his collar and yanked him back to a reasonable slouch. "Oh, come on, Artemis! We all have to lean something new every so often. You put your pants on one leg at a time, just like everyone else."

Artemis seemed slightly mollified, if sheepish, and he gave her a pained grin. "Actually, I do both legs simultaneously. Slightly more efficient."

Holly chewed her cheeks, pensive as she considered this, then nodded. "Yes, I can imagine that."

Sensing an opportunity to redirect the embarrassment, Artemis quipped, "Well, if you can stop imagining me in a state of undress, perhaps you can teach me to drive this car."

Having spent much of the last few years working with Artemis on the Koboi case, she recognized Artemis's new coping mechanism of snide teasing and ignored the comment as best she could. Still, she had to take a deep breath to fight down a tint of pink from her cheeks. "Very well. The basics. Start in first, obviously, but think of it as transitional and get into a higher gear as soon as possible. The range of speed for each gear is a bit fuzzy, but the idea is that a lower gear has more power but less speed. Too high a gear, and the engine doesn't have the power to keep going. That's how you stall."

Artemis nodded. "Hmmm...perhaps you should put on your seat belt."

Holly considered this and buckled in, forced to push the chest restraint behind her back, rather than letting it cross her face.

"Do I need to get you a booster seat?"

Holly glared. "Artemis, you are _far_ more likely to _die_ in this car than me."

Threat duly noted, Artemis shifted back to first, and started the car, rolling off again.

"Good, now second." Holly coached. "A bit more gas...now to third." For the next half hour, Holly coached him up and down the gears, smiling as his confidence increased. At the end of the tutorial, as they neared a set of crossed wooden planks marking the end of the country road, she turned to him and smiled wickedly. "Alright, ready to open her up?"

Swallowing, Artemis tugged his seat belt a bit tighter. "Very well."

"Good." Holly placed her helmet on the floor and pushed the sunroof button. "If you need me, I'll be up top." She leapt out of her seat, grabbing the front edge of the sun roof and bracing her feet on the back, arching herself over the opening in a sort of push-up.

Artemis faced the Camaro down the road. Switching back to first, he pushed in the clutch. Looking up at Holly, he began revving the engine. "Hold on!" Grinning wildly, he released the clutch and gloried as the wheels spun out, flinging gravel behind the car before finding purchase and taking off. In seconds, he had moved from first to fifth, causing Holly to scream in delight.

"FASTER!"

It is basically impossible for a man to hear a woman yell "faster" and not comply, so Artemis pushed the car to its limit, climbing to around 200 kilometer per hour.

"WOOOOOO!"

Now, 30 km is not terribly far. At 200 km/hr, it is not far at _all._ At around six minutes, a light in Holly's helmet began to blink. Fifteen seconds later, Artemis's ring flashed. Finally, having had enough of waiting, Foaly simply called Artemis's cell phone, which automatically hooked up to the car's bluetooth sound system.

"Look, I've ignored this little romp of yours long enough. Artemis, if you do not hit the brakes now, you will blast into the car lot, and if the crash does not obliterate you, then the ring of Mud Men with guns, who are about to see their first fairy, most likely will oblige!"

Holly lowered her torso, looking into the cabin. "Foaly?" Then his words hit her and she shielded.

Artemis also processed the warning quickly and began to put pressure on the breaks, rapidly dropping from 200 km/hr to 40 km/hr. Fortunately, the car lot began to approach at a reasonable rate.

Unfortunately, he forgot his lessons and neglected to downshift. There was an uncomfortable crunch of gears as the slowly moving car was unable to continue moving while in its top gear and it was once again jerked to a (much more jarring) halt.

Holly went flying, curling into a ball to absorb the impact as she hit the ground. She tumbled between cars, going into a roll under a row of tall trucks before coming to violent rest against the front wheel of a VW.

Artemis practically kicked the car door open, dashing after his invisible friend, who had left a rather noticeable trail of dust. On the way, he passed Butler and the salesman, both of whom looked disapproving. "I'll take it!" Then he was gone, darting through the cars.

Nodding, Butler reached into his breast pocket and took out a roll of bills, handing it to the car salesman. "Madame Ko warned me you would do this."

The squat man took the roll without bothering to count, tucking it into the breast pocket of his suit. "What can I say? Business is business. At least I'm not calling my used cars 'certified pre-owned.' Besides, an intelligent, well grounded boy like that one? He needs a little loosening up. The car will be good for him."

Butler raised his chin, trying to look dignified. He suddenly thought of a certain sophisticated blond. "With Artemis, getting him to go along with something that's good for him is...a bit difficult."

On the other side of the field, Artemis dropped, panting, next to Holly, who was de-shielded and also struggling for breath. She was laying on the ground, her legs propped against the VW's wheel as if she were sitting at a rather unorthodox angle. The wind was knocked out of her lungs and blue sparks danced across her body, healing a glut of scratches, though she had escaped major wounds. Her eyes twinkled as she heaved a deep breath and shot her arms above her head.

"Let's do that again!"

* * *

**Next week on _Fowl Shorts_: Artemis becomes a man.**


	9. What he saw and what she saw

**Chapter 9: What he saw and what she saw**

**November 24, 2010-Fowl Manor**

**What she saw**

Vinyáya was not as easily duped as Holly had hoped. In the wake of her impromptu car buying trip with Artemis, Holly's claims of a false alarm regarding the Koboi plot had been met with derision, a shift-long lecture, and two weeks of desk work alongside Grub Kelp. Mercifully, Holly was saved from a decade in the office by Artemis, who had flatly refused to meet with any LEP officer but Holly. Nearly a month after her AWOL adventure, the major once again found herself on the surface, ready for a Koboi brainstorming session.

The Manor grounds were pleasantly cool, though it was obvious that the night would soon bring a chill to the Irish countryside. Holly savored the soft breeze that brushed her skin, raising a set of goosebumps along her arms and neck, even through the protection of her shimmer suit. Fowl Manor's cold gray stones glowed faintly in the pink of the setting sun, removing much of the edifice's menace, but Holly did not approach the main building. Instead, following Artemis's instructions, she flew around the back, landing next to the second-largest building on the property: the hangar. The main roll-up door was down, so she circled to a side door. Before she pushed it open, Holly noticed a basket on the landing, along with a sign that read, "Industrial work in progress. Please wear safety goggles." Inside the bin, Holly found a few sets of large-lensed sunglasses, including two miniature pairs that were ostensibly for Myles and Beckett.

Whatever was going on inside, her helmet would easily protect her eyes, but Holly was already beginning to feel stifled in the tight thing. She removed it and put on a pair of the twins' goggles, which fit her rather nicely, and placed her hand on the door. She had a moment to register its odd warmth before she pushed it open.

_Technically_, her jaw did not drop. It merely opened slightly in a silent "woah." Her eyes went wide and her breaths became shallow and rapid, occasionally hitching in her throat. This soon caused her lips to dry out. She licked them, sending a tingle along their surface. A blast of hot air hit her chest, while the cool air continued to chill her back. At her sides, the two temperatures met, alternately causing her to goose-bump and sweat, creating a roiling sensation that began in her stomach, quickly rising into her heart and lungs. 'I think this is how tornadoes start...'

Artemis's new car was set in the middle of the hanger, the Cessna to its right. It was in a wild state of disarray, missing half of its panels, which were strewn about the hangar, most of them the blotchy colors of primer, though a few had new, dark-gray paint. In the largest set of empty space, Holly found her comrades and the car's hood. It was held upright by a rather large set of clamps and was being closely monitored by Butler, who was wearing what Holly would have normally thought to be a uniform for the Garda Emergency Response Unit, though without the weaponry. Thick gloves and an equally armored bodysuit were accompanied by a metal helmet with a thin slit for the eyes. Very convenient, as he was using a set of tongs to maneuver a metal sheet into place around the edge of the hood, directly next to the crackling blue-and-white tip of an arc welder.

And kneeling behind the current was Artemis Fowl.

Like Butler, he wore very thick clothing, though his was a bit less severe, as he was further from the welder's tip. His helmet, while mostly a metal shield, had a dark glass front instead of a thin eye slit. His gloves extended to his elbows, where they overlapped a long-sleeved black shirt. Artemis had obviously been at work for hours, as a rather uncharacteristic swath of stubble covered his face, along with a thin layer of sweat that made the shirt stick to his back and flattened his hair to his forehead. The clinging shirt didn't precisely display muscles so much as a thin body with slight divots and curves revealing an intriguing potential.

Yet it was the final piece of the ensemble that Holly was having a hard time processing. She stared, sure that she must be hallucinating There was no way that Artemis Fowl would be caught dead in...blue jeans?

And, indeed, they were. Nothing spectacular, though they were an undeniably good fit, made even more snug by his kneeling, which stretched the material over his legs, rear, and—

Holly swallowed and shook her head. 'Bad fairy!'

White-hot sparks shot through the air, most fading before they reached the end of Artemis's gloves, though a few stray embers shot past his head, the flashes of light briefly illuminating the inside of his helmet. Artemis was...smiling.

He looked for all the world like a mad scientist.

Holly licked her lips again.

The current finished its circuit and was shut off. Butler waited a moment and tapped the steel sheet. He gave a thumbs up, taking off his helmet. "Perfect. You are hereby allowed to drive alone."

Artemis rested back on both knees, sitting on his calves and causing his pants to further fit his form. He removed his gloves and ran a hand through his damp hair, looking at it afterward and shaking it distastefully. Apparently, his love of welding only extended to the parts that involved wielding a live current. "I really do hope that's _with_ the car put back together and painted." His tone was sarcastic, yet playful, and Butler smiled in response.

"It was implied." Butler was quick to unclasp the hood, straining slightly as he lifted the reinforced metal and placed it alongside its companions.

Relieved from his duty, Artemis stood, revealing that his pants were, indeed, acceptably loose, though certainly not baggy. He began to work the kinks out of his body, emitting several pops and groans of relief. As he was twisting his torso around to stretch his back, his eyes locked onto the still somewhat stunned elf and lit up. "Holly!" He came forward in a few long strides, then stopped a few feet from her. He looked at his sweaty shirt and grimaced. "Hmmm. Perhaps the greetings can wait until I am a bit more...pleasant?"

Holly nodded. "Er...yes. I can wait."

Artemis sighed in relief. "Ah, good. I really need to get out of these clothes."

"Yes. You do." The words were out of her mouth before Holly could stop them, and her breathy tone did not help matters. She could do nothing about the reddening that spread to the tips of her ears, but she did manage to keep her hands at her side, rather than letting them fly up to cover her mouth. 'Act natural. Don't move. He probably didn't catch that. Artemis is socially inept, remember?'

Artemis hesitated, looking down at Holly. He looked somewhat embarrassed, though his glance at the sweaty black shirt revealed that it was from disgust over his hygiene. "Well...yes. Let me go get my things." He spun around, moving past Butler and to the finished trunk of the car, which he opened and began to root through.

Holly then learned one of the major advantages of dark sunglasses: hiding your eye movement. She tilted her head up as Butler approached, but kept her eyes trained on the Mud Boy. "What on Earth possessed you to let him use a jet of _electricity_ without an ambulance present?"

Butler snorted dismissively. "Artemis is prone to danger, not accidents. Besides, if he's going to drive that...death trap, he agreed to earn it by helping me with the alterations." He smiled rather fondly. "Besides, he needed it. Give a boy a welder and he'll be a man by the end of the week."

"Hmmm..." Holly had to admit that Butler was right. A few weeks ago, Artemis had been an adolescent indulging in a rare round of high-octane immaturity. This Artemis, however, was moving with a bit more force, more purpose. He had always been sophisticated and mentally mature, but now he was in that gradual physical transition from "young adult" to a true man.

Butler looked down at Holly for a few moments before rolling his eyes. He knelt in front of the elf and slid her sunglasses off.

Holly shifted her gaze to Butler the second the glasses moved and tilted her head slightly, as if perplexed. "Yes?"

Butler poked her under her collarbone. "Behavioral experts say that we face our chests at the most important object in the room."

Holly twisted her torso the few degrees it took to focus it on Butler, but it was too late. The bodyguard was grinning widely, shaking his head. "Ah, get over it, little fairy, and enjoy this while you can. It took me a week and ten ruined pairs of slacks to convince him that he needed the jeans."

"I wasn't—"

"Are we ready?" Artemis had rejoined them, his shoulders weighed down with half a dozen laptop cases.

Butler nodded. "Oh, as we'll ever be."

Holly shot him a slit-eyed look, storming out of the hangar.

Artemis looked at her as she left, then at Butler. Eyebrows scrunched down, he raised his hands, palms up in a confused gesture. "What?" he mouthed, trusting Butler to follow his lead so that the observant fairy would not overhear them.

Butler shook his head, silently mouthing back, "You'll see soon enough."

* * *

**What he saw**

Much later, in either the late hours of night or the early hours of the morning, Artemis and Holly sat at the Manor's family dining table (a small glass affair that contrasted sharply with the enormous oak banquet table a room over) going over piles of paper, several whirring laptops, and two fairy digital tablets. Artemis was now clean and back in one of his beloved suits, but his hair was uncommonly disheveled from running his hands through it every few minutes. The lower lids of his eyes were turning an unhealthy shade of purple, revealing that he had not had adequate sleep in preparation for the night-long event.

"This really makes no sense. One day she's at the Berlin Museum of Natural History, then she's caught on a security camera at an auto shop, and then she goes to the Kitagunma District of Japan."

Holly flipped through a sheaf of papers, frowning a bit at the waste. "Perhaps she's sightseeing?"

"Or maybe she's crazy." Artemis pushed his laptop away and rested his head on the table, moving a bit too fast and sending out a small thunk that made Holly cringe.

"She may be crazy, but we can't expect her to catch herself."

Artemis looked up, resting his chin on the edge of the table as he considered this. "Now there's a thought. We could go to Atlantis—"

"No!" Holly snapped. "You know that we cant get this time's Koboi involved. Who knows what we might trigger in her memory."

Artemis opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, his stomach rumbled impressively. The growl was amplified as it went up his throat, causing a sound not unlike a roar to escape his lips. Looking embarrassed, Artemis brought his arms up to the table, resting his hands on top of his head. Ugh..."

Holly looked impressed. She had never heard two more unintelligent sounds leave Artemis's lips in such quick succession. "I suppose we could break for a snack." Mercifully, she slipped out of her chair and into the kitchen, where she began rummaging in the refrigerator "Meat, meat, dairy, meat, dairy, dairy, dairy _and_ meat." She grumbled. "Honestly, does you family eat anything that doesn't—oooo, plums!" Holly pulled a rather large metal bowl from the refrigerator, pulling a pair of cloth napkins from a drawer as she rejoined Artemis at the table. "Really, Artemis," she said, picking a plum from the bowl, "your family ought to eat better. That fridge is a heart attack waiting to happen."

The young man was about to make a witty response about her own choice of cuisine when Holly bit into the plum and Artemis was transfixed.

It was like a miniature explosion. Her small teeth had put only the slightest pressure on the overripe fruit's skin, but it split open, flooding her mouth with cold, sweet juice. A trickle escaped her mouth, first coating her lips and then flowing down her chin and neck. She shuddered at the cold stream, swallowing quickly and licking her lips. She caught a drip of juice on her finger moments before it disappeared into her shimmer suit, gathering the trail by tracing her finger back up her neck before sucking it from her fingertip. Then she noted a similar trickle running down her left wrist, which she gathered up in one long motion of her tongue, ending by licking the flesh of the fruit and sucking more of the dangerous juices out, moaning lightly.

She finally looked at Artemis, her smiling lips stained a shining purple. She leaned over the table. "Well...are you going to give it to me?"

Artemis Fowl was rarely at a loss for words, but the one person who tended to make him stumble was Major Holly Short. His throat was dry, though his mouth watered, and he coughed briefly before replying as intelligently as he could. "Pardon?"

"The napkin."

"The...what?" He blinked. 'Is this some sort of fairy euphemism?'

Holly waved her free hand at Artemis's side of the table. "The napkin. Unless you want me to drip all over your papers."

"Oh!" He scrambled for the cloths, knocking a thick file to the ground as he offered one to Holly.

She looked at it for a moment, confused, then snatched it away. "You know, one of these days, I'm going to figure out exactly what's wrong with you."

'And on that day,' thought Artemis, 'I will have to kill myself.'

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: A threefer! 1) Artemis jumps to an...odd conclusion. 2) Pyro tendencies. 3) Holly makes the dreams of every romance-reader come true. Kind of.**


	10. We can get it for you wholesale

**Chapter 10: We can get it for you wholesale**

**May 15, 2011- Grafton Street, Dublin, Ireland**

Artemis had learned one thing about psychology since he began using his ring-bound LEP communicator: humans naturally fill in the blanks. Despite talking into an invisible phone (an activity normally regulated to children, stand-up comedians, and the mentally unhinged), few passersby ever looked at him twice. Thus, when his communicator began to blink and vibrate as he walked through Dublin's shopping district, he did not hesitate to form his hand into a a "make-believe" phone and bring it to the side of his head. "Good afternoon, Holly. News, I presume?" If it had been urgent, Butler would have been called at the same time, and the bodyguard was looking curious, not tense.

The voice on the other end was...shrill. Barely contained. An altogether uncommon state for the LEP major, even if she was an emotional elf. "Of a kind. Guess what!"

Artemis rolled his eyes. "While I am sure I could eventually deduce what is going on, I would rather not play a guessing game with you. What is it?"

He could almost hear the pout. "You are no fun, Arty." The voice took on an almost musical quality. "Guess who's _preg-nant!_"

Faced with this new guessing game, Artemis reached a quick conclusion and promptly lost it. "You—what?—how?—_WHO DID THIS TO YOU?_" He was yelling into his hand now, attracting the attention of a large section of the passing shoppers. They began to mutter amongst themselves, pointing at his empty phone hand and edging away. A Guarda officer began to eye him quite avidly.

"You think—" Holly broke off, returning a few seconds later, her voice filled with outrage. "No, it is not me, you _spaz!_ Caballine! How could you even think..." She trailed off, obviously at a loss for words. Or unwilling to think of why Artemis thought _she_ was the one on stork watch.

Thinking of the piebald centaur, Artemis rubbed the bridge of his nose to release his unexpected tension. "Of course. Caballine and Foaly. About time. Send them my congratulations, please, but was it really necessary to be so ambiguous? Half of downtown Dublin now thinks I'm insane."

"Well...aren't you?"

* * *

**June 15, 2011-Fowl Manor**

"Let me get this straight," Mulch muttered, tracing his fingers along a line on a set of blueprints, an amused and puzzled look on his face, "you want me to install a sprinkler system."

Artemis nodded, turning a short piece of PVC pipe over in his hands. "Yes, Mulch. Technically correct, but you take all of the _elegance_ out of this plan."

"The 'elegance' is getting a bit too close to blasphemy, and I don't even follow Mud Man religions." He scratched his head nervously, dislodging a few dirt clods and beetles, the latter of which he began rounding up. He ordered them by size, shape, and color (in much the same manner as a chocoholic would organize a box of sweets), picking among the various breeds to crunch on. When he noticed the green look on Artemis's face, he stretched out a hand, offering a rather plump blue insect to his former partner-in-crime. "It's a _sour_ one."

Artemis held up a hand. "Doubtless." He edged back into the safety of the couch, a corner of his upper lip lifting in a defensive half-snarl.

The dwarf tossed the beetle in the air, tilting his head back to catch it as it descended. Unfortunately for Mulch (though fortunately for the beetle), the creature gathered its wits at the apex of the throw, snapping out its wings and zipping off to the safety of the Manor's many corridors. Mulch pouted. "That was my favorite kind." He shrugged. "Ah, well, plenty of beetles in the soil, as me mum always said. I'll do the job, for an _appropriate_ fee, but I'll need your help."

"_My _help?" Artemis had been prepared to pay Mulch's "consultant" fee, but the idea of assisting the dwarf in the matter of tunneling had not truly crossed his mind. Setting up a subterranean sprinkler system was an easy enough affair, merely requiring a little digging, assembling, and gluing. "What, exactly, do you need me to do?"

Shrugging, Mulch took up a pencil and began circling a few sections of the blueprint. "Well, leaving a bunch of pipes all over the manor grounds would be a bad idea, even if it's only for a night. So I'll just need you to bring the materials out every half-hour or so."

"That sounds simple enough. I wont be needing any special tools, then? No Hazmat suits or sulfuric acid to burn the image of your foul rear from my retinas?"

"Nah," Mulch snorted, "just some work clothes. Something you don't mind getting dirty. It'll get pretty muddy out there, with me rooting around underground." He smiled at the last few words, trying to work out how many horrible puns he had made.

Judging by the look on Artemis's face, it was a dastardly amount. "Work clothes...I don't believe I have anything that fits that description."

Snickering a bit, Mulch replied, "What, not going to pull out the infamous blue jeans?"

Artemis scowled. "How did you know—"

Mulch waggled a finger. "Ah, I am sworn to secrecy."

Sighing and setting this little mystery to the back of his mind, Artemis returned to the task in front of him. "Well, I'm afraid I don't have them anymore. I burned them."

Mulch stared, one eye squinting slightly as he tried to work out if the Mud Man was serious. Artemis was always deadpan, making it difficult to detect when he was being sarcastic and when he was telling the truth. "You burned—"

"With _fire._" Artemis nodded.

"'With fire'? What else would...never mind." Mulch sighed and stood, rolling up the blueprints and stuffing them under his arm. "I think it's best I didn't know."

* * *

**September 1, 2011-Fowl Manor**

"Happy eighteenth birthday, Artemis!" Holly cheered, offering her human friend a somewhat flat, but long and wide box. "Vinyáya only authorized me for a few minutes after my mission, so open it quick!"

Butler, who had been delivering a snack to his ward's room at the moment of Holly's arrival, was filled with a desire to snatch the box from the fairy and inspect it far from Artemis. The People were doing their best to track the demented pixie Opal Koboi, but he didn't trust Holly to adequately secure something before it went into Artemis's hands.

Before he could grab the box and conduct a bomb check, however, Artemis tugged off the single piece of twine securing it and opened the lid. Then he paused, an odd expression on his face. "Ah. It's...riding gear."

Holly beamed. "I know you've been keeping at it, so I thought you'd like something a bit sturdier than typical human clothing." She picked up a corner of the material, rubbing it between her fingers. "Foaly found the design on-line and had it made with shimmer suit material. Minus all the circuitry, of course."

Artemis nodded, opening his mouth for several seconds before words came out. "It's...very nice."

Holly punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I hear the twins will be getting their own mounts. Maybe I can borrow one sometime and join you for a ride?" She looked excited at the idea of riding a horse, even if it would technically be a pony.

"Yes. That would be pleasant."

"And you'd have to wear the outfit!"

"I suppose I would."

Holly wrapped an arm around his neck, briefly pecking his cheek before darting away and checking her helmet's clock. "D'arvit. Time's up." She waved. "I'll see you in a few months for the big Koboi meeting, okay?" Not waiting for a response, the time-strapped fairy shielded and rushed out of Artemis's room, ready to speed all the way back to Haven.

In her wake, Artemis and Butler descended to an awkward silence. Tentatively, Butler reached into the box, removing a black hat with silver decorations and placing it on Artemis's head. He stepped back, tilting his head and inspecting the frozen genius from various angles. Finally, he pursed his lips and nodded in approval. "Nice hat. Would have fit right in at the Denver symposium." Then he descended into uncontrollable laughter.

Artemis resisted the urge to throw the cowboy hat to the floor, instead holding it by the brim and looking at it in disgust. "Holly does know I'm an English rider, not Western...right?"

Butler straightened, wiping a tear from his eyes. He still shook slightly with the deep chuckles that escaped his lips as he spoke. "Artemis, I sort of—hee—doubt that Holly—haha—knows there is a difference."

Artemis lifted a pair of pants from the box, turning them around a few times and holding a piece of fringe as if it were a dead rat. "I suppose, but did she have to give me..." Here he trailed off, lips moving between a squeezed 'b' shape and an open-mouthed 'a' shape. He looked tormented over his potential choice of words. Finally, he settled for the slightly less vulgar option. "...butt-less chaps?"

Butler wheezed a bit as he spoke. "Well, they're rather prominent in romance novels, and you _are_ an adult, now...perhaps it's wish fulfillment."

Artemis's head snapped to face Butler, an odd expression on his face.

"Artemis," Butler said, all traces of hilarity gone, "I don't know what that look means, and I don't think I want to know."

"That's probably for the best, old friend."

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: Minerva makes Artemis's brain implode.**


	11. Ride 'em hard, put 'em away wet

**Chapter 11: Ride 'em hard, put 'em away wet**

**November 10, 2011-Fowl Manor, the high lawn**

The most revealing and mind-bending experience of Artemis Fowl II's life began because he decided to take a walk.

Following a rather lengthy and intense debate with the Dean of Christchurch Cathedral, he stood on the high meadow, surveying the grounds with a smug grin. His associates would have noted this to be his "plotting face." As Artemis was remaining rather silent on his current venture, feelings varied from nervous confusion to distrust.

"Yes, I believe this shall work splendidly," he muttered, taking a moment to glance at his watch. Surprisingly, there were still twenty minutes to spare before the fist members of the Koboi task force (Holly and Trouble, coming as advanced guards for the LEP) arrived.

It was an oddly pleasant November evening, the day's allotment of rain having fallen several hours before, leaving only a light nip in the air. For the past few weeks, Artemis had been almost exclusively focused on preparing for this meeting, leaving him with little time to enjoy the advantages of his high-class lifestyle. 'Well, Butler can surely handle any last-minute details.' Pulling his sport jacket a little more tightly around his chest, Artemis strode to the back of the Manor, where the main wall enclosed a thick swath of trees.

Since attempting to heal his mother years ago, Artemis had experienced fewer problems with full moons and mysterious ancient voices, but he had retained an uncommon fondness for "wild places," like the Manor woods. Myles and Beckett came to them for daily make-believe adventures, but Artemis was a bit more stoic, preferring to walk with the woods on his left side and the Manor on his right. Perhaps a bit melodramatic, but the tribute to his divided self suited him on these rare walks. Fairy and human worlds merging for a few minutes whenever he could slow down.

He was deep in thought on the coming meeting of the minds when a snap from within the woods caught his attention. Artemis's heart rate immediately shot up as he stopped and stared into the woodland, his hand snaking into a breast pocket to remove his cell phone. 'Stupid! Koboi unaccounted for, and you go off for a nature walk?' He opened the cell phone slowly, muffling the click as it reached its full extension, and activated the speed-dial, hovering his finger over "1." Speed-dial 1 was Butler. 2 was an unlisted number Foaly had acquired as an emergency contact for the LEP, should Artemis find himself unable to use his ring communicator. Somewhere around speed-dial 35 was emergency services, but if Artemis needed the fire department or paramedics something was seriously odd.

'Don't jump to conclusions. One false move and the meeting is off.' He swallowed, a sudden bead of sweat running from his hairline, down the ridge of his nose, and off the tip. The slight chill of November attacked the moisture, but Artemis resisted the urge to wipe it away.

There came another snap and the rustling of leaves. On the edge of the foliage, branches parted.

"My...God..." Artemis breathed.

Its head was long and delicate, connecting to a strong neck and thick chest. Undeniably equine in body, but displaying the fine-boned figure of an Arabian over the thicker set of the draft breeds. Its coat was white, accompanied by a rich cream tail and mane and a single, spiraling gold horn protruding from its forehead.

"You," Artemis commented, his tone soft as he switched to the camera program, "are supposed to be extinct." He began taking pictures, grateful that he had disabled the shutter click.

The unicorn flared its nostrils, eyeing him skeptically. It was constantly chewing, a few wildflowers sticking out from the sides of its mouth.

Artemis suddenly thought of the stables. A few of the Arabian stallions were out studding, leaving their stalls empty. 'If I could catch this one, Foaly could surely do something for the species, like he did with Jayjay. I just need to...' He shifted a foot forward.

The unicorn reared, snorting, eyes wide. Faster than any horse Artemis had ever seen, it retreated into the trees, halting just before it disappeared completely. Only brief glimpses of white fur or flashes of gold reassured the man that the unicorn had not escaped the Manor's stone wall.

Artemis held his hands up, palms out, and backed away. 'That was foolish. I _know_ the legends.'

A soft thumping approached from behind and Artemis turned his head slightly, keeping his peripheral vision framed on the unicorn as he focused the rest on the approaching behemoth. "Butler. Quiet." He gestured to the forest and tossed over his cell phone.

Butler began to walk a bit softer, going through the phone's recent documents. He whistled, looking into the woods. "Still there?"

Artemis nodded. "I tried to catch it, but it bolted. I believe we need a woman's touch. A maiden's, to be precise."

Butler stood at the shorter man's side, craning his neck, as if it would help him see through the foliage. "Well, Juliet will be here, soon."

For a moment, Artemis's Adam's Apple stuck at the top of his throat. "Ah...yes, she will." He thought of the last video he had seen of Juliet's wrestling league. Scandalous plots, skimpy outfits, mud matches...no, Artemis needed to catch this creature _before_ Juliet appeared and destroyed Butler's world.

Once again, Artemis was brought out of his contemplation by a noise approaching from the rear. Now trusting Butler to keep watch on the woods, he turned and immediately felt his body flood with relief. "Holly! Trouble!" He called as loud as he dared, waving his arms to catch the attention of the fairies.

The LEP officers banked sharply, Holly landing far in advance of Trouble, who proceeded to look over the humans quite carefully, obviously using every setting on his helmet. Holly, in contrast, trotted up, taking her helmet off and giving the youngest member of the party a one-armed hug around his waist. "Goodness, Artemis, you're outside and apparently not under duress. Whatever has possessed you?"

Artemis grabbed her hand, tugging Holly towards the woods. "I need your help."

Trouble now yanked his helmet off, revealing an imposing scowl. His copper hair was held back in a ponytail (for lack of a more masculine term, unless a "stallion tail" fits), though the helmet had managed to misshape it somewhat during their flight. Like Holly (and most elves, it seemed), he also had hazel eyes, which were now cutting into the genius. "One second, Mud Man! I am not letting Major Short go along with one of your wild schemes unless you tell me _exactly_ what is going on."

Some part of Artemis was relieved to see Holly roll her eyes at this. "I just need her for a moment, Commander." He reassured, putting himself between the two elves. "The People will thank me for this. I just need a maiden to catch a unicorn." With that, he shoved Holly towards the trees.

She stood in the first few feet of plants, oddly frozen. The unicorn looked up, stamping a hoof. Slowly, Holly looked over her shoulder, eyes slitted. "Really. A unicorn."

Artemis waved his hand at the creature. "Yes, you can see it yourself."

Holly turned to face the rest of the group, hands on her hips and looking quite formidable. "Oh, I can see it. I just don't know whether to be flattered or insulted,"

"Well, I presumed you'd at least be intrigued. This is certainly better than Kraken—"

"I'm _eighty-nine_ years old!" Holly snarled, storming out of the woodland. "A few months ago, you think I'm pregnant, and now you think I've never managed to _shag_ anyone?"

"Ah, I suppose..." Artemis paused, then looked at Holly a bit more closely. "Who?"

She poked his chest, forcing the human to step back. "None of your business."

As if on cue, Butler and Artemis turned their heads to look at Trouble.

"Woah." He held up his hands to ward off the accusations and Holly's murderous glance. "I didn't do it."

"Literally," quipped Butler, "or is it metaphorically?"

Sighing, Artemis squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Double or single entendre aside, we still have a unicorn in the woods and a disturbing lack of purity."

Trouble smirked, crossing his arms, his body slouched cockily. "Why don't you go in, Mud Boy?"

Now all eyes were on Artemis, expectant. He raised is nose in the air. "I'll have you know—"

"Oh," Trouble interrupted, tapping his helmet, "I know. Thanks to Foaly."

"...There is something deeply disturbing about that." Artemis muttered, and he didn't doubt Trouble's claims. Foaly's surveillance approached stalker-like thoroughness "That unicorn ran from me the second I took a step towards it, despite...everything. If that is any indication that the legends are true, we need a _maiden_."

Holly snorted. "Well, don't depend too much on the LEP. The only other women on this mission are Vinyáya and Lily Frond."

Trouble chuckled, rubbing the goatee on his chin. "Yes, you really shouldn't be depending on them."

Holly was visibly thrown off. She snapped her head in his direction. "What? Which one?"

Tossing his helmet from hand to hand, he gave a flippant answer. "Whoever said it was_ just_ one?"

Artemis nodded to himself. "Foaly was right. All officers are the same." After graciously receiving glares, he moved on. "Then who else?"

"Well," said Butler, "Juliet will be driving Madame Ko into the grounds in a few minutes. We can ask her."

Holly frowned. "Madame Ko?"

"Oh, no, bad idea." Butler said quickly, looking alarmed. "The last person who joked with Madame Ko about a 'roll in the hay' got thrown off the roof of a barn. It was talking about Juliet."

Once again, that awkward silence filled the grounds, amplified by the expanded group. Holly inspected her nails and Trouble began fiddling with a wire in his helmet.

This time, Butler caught on and was about to protest, but was interrupted by a lilting voice from across the high meadow. "Artemis? _Où es-tu?_"

"Minerva. Perfect." Artemis took off, determined to get far from his offended manservant, even if it was just for the few moments needed to fetch his French friend. "Minerva, I need you!"

"Well, of course you do!" Minerva beamed, locking arms with her fellow genii. She wore a light blue sun dress with a liberal lace fringe, showing off her long legs without being too immodest. "Where do you need my assistance? French government connections? A chess game? The Koboi statistics?"

"No, nothing so complicated," Artemis reassured, taking her to the edge of the forest. "Just a roundup." He gave her a slightly less forceful push towards the woods than he had given to Holly, accompanying it with a gesture that could be best translated as "Go get 'em, Tiger."

She gave him a perplexed look, but obediently took a few steps into the trees. Unfortunately, her outfit soon proved both modest and impractical as her shoes began to sink into the detritus and her fringe caught on a low branch. "Artemis, there is no way I can get in to that horse."

"Well, call it, " Holly suggested, looking smug. _She_ would never have a problem like that. Of course, she would never be caught dead in a dress, but that was besides the point.

"And what, pray tell, should I call? 'Here, Lightning?' 'Come, Darkness?'"

"Oh, I imagine 'Here, unicorn unicorn unicorn' will work."

Minerva rolled her eyes and began to call. " Here, unicorn unicorn unicorn. Here, unicorn unicorn _unicorn_?" Her voice abruptly lost volume. " Here, unicorn...unicorn...uni...corn." She emerged a few seconds later, biting her lip. Standing before Artemis, hands clasped behind her back and her gaze focused on the ground, she whispered, "I can't do it."

Artemis scowled. "Really, Minerva, are you on another 'save the magical species' kick? The LEP are the best choice to care for this creature."

"Um...no. I mean the unicorn wont come to me." Flushing, she looked up slightly and caught his eyes.

Artemis's brain imploded.

"What! But you're only..._I'm_ technically older than you! How..who...when?" He threw his hands up in the air. "Am I the only virgin left in Ireland!"

Snickering, Holly poked a finger towards Minerva. "Trollop." Holly knew that Minerva had long been "legal," by French law, but that didn't mean she couldn't make fun of the girl for so thoroughly disappointing Artemis.

Minerva harrumphed, moving to stand beside Butler. After a rather awkward moment, he shook his head violently, a clear "not my fault!"

"This is wonderful." Artemis scowled at everyone in turn. "The rarest magical creature in the world is about to hop the Manor wall and go mucking about who knows where, and all because no one here can stop hu—"

"Hello?" A new voice called across the meadow.

Artemis groaned. 'This is not going to end well...' "By the woods, Juliet."

The blond woman jogged up, thankfully dressed "conservatively" in a jade green mini-skirt, black halter top, and enormous gold hoop earrings. "You'd better get inside. Everyone is here, and it's chaos. Madame Ko is getting a power trip from being the tallest person in the room and Foaly is on a holy quest to find tin foil, among other issues." When no one moved, she looked to Butler, trusting him to be the source of all reason in the madness of Fowl Manor. "What's wrong?"

Butler grinned. "A shocking lack of virgins."

Holly pointed at the bodyguard, looking rather like she should be aiming a gun instead of a finger. "Hey, I'm an adult woman, get off my back."

Trouble grinned. "That's _not_ what she sa—" His head snapped back as Holly's fist smashed into his chin, sending the Commander to the ground.

Juliet nodded, impressed, then clapped her hands once. "Well, if you all can keep your pants on..." No one laughed at this. "I've got it covered."

Artemis, if it was possible, paled. "Juliet, no!"

Before the man could stop her, Juliet traipsed into the woods, putting two fingers to her lips and whistling shrilly.

The unicorn looked up and nickered. It flared its nostrils once, then began to weave through the trees with surprising agility. Once it reached Juliet, the equine began to mouth at her braid, only stopping when she gave it a rather loud slap on the rump. It looked scandalized at this highly unmaidenly behavior, but subsided when she wrapped an arm around its neck, allowing itself to be led out of the forest.

As she passed through the awkward crowd, Juliet locked eyes with Artemis and stuck out her tongue

Butler sighed in relief.

* * *

**Some hours later...**

On Artemis's request, his "assistants" did not speak of the unicorn's capture for the duration of the meeting. Which made convincing Foaly to enter the stables quite difficult.

"You had better not be thinking of putting a saddle on me, Mud Man. I've got back problems like you wouldn't _believe_."

Artemis waved this off. "If I want a ride, there are plenty of higher quality mounts here."

Foaly snorted, but looked into the stall of a fine black Arabian. Rubbing the bit of paunch still on his stomach, he scowled. "Well, if I didn't have a _job_ and a pregnant _wife_, perhaps I could have the leisure to become a supermodel, too_."_

"Jealousy does not suit you, Foaly, so I suggest you leave Acorn out of this."

Whinnying in surprise, Foaly gave the horse a closer inspection. She had a rather well-defined brown blotch on her forehead. "You are just...twisted."

Artemis was now at the end of the stable. "And you are stalling. Nervous?"

"With an entire LEP squadron outside waiting for me?" 'Yes," Foaly added silently, trotting to Artemis's side. "One false move and they'll _D'ARVIT_, where did you get _that?_"

Artemis flashed his canines. "I thought you'd approve."

Foaly did more than approve. He practically collapsed into worship. "A unicorn! It's a...er, pardon me." He opened the stall door slightly, bending his torso to get a rather personal glance in before popping back up. "A female unicorn! There hasn't been a sighting in _ages._" This fact seemed to renew his suspicions "How _did _you get her?"

The man shrugged. "She was just wandering the grounds."

Foaly played with one of his horns. "Yes...they're smart creatures. It probably realized that you would neither try to kill it or do some sort of international press release and blow its cover." Eager to befriend his equine cousin, Foaly took a carrot from the bag slung over his shoulder. The unicorn immediately whickered and stretched her head over the door, crunching into the vegetable. Her eyes closed, content, and she permitted the centaur to stroked her neck.

"Well, I'm glad she isn't giving _you_ trouble. We had an..._eventful_ time getting her."

Foaly looked at the man. "What do you mean?"

"The...er..." Here he coughed into his hand, trying to mask the words. "Maiden thing."

Foaly threw back his head, whinnying loudly. To horses (and unicorns), it was apparently infectious laughter, as the rest of the stable took up the call. Slinging an arm around the unicorn's neck, Foaly jerked his head in Artemis's direction. "Confess. You were messing with him."

The unicorn flicked her ears and leaned forward, braying loudly, her breath disturbing Artemis's hair.

He smoothed it back down, irritated. "So the 'maiden thing' is..."

"An urban legend."

"Then what about Holly? She didn't even try." Artemis was tempted to ask Foaly about Holly's "disqualification," but he doubted the centaur would give an answer, and Holly was likely to murder him if she found out he'd asked.

Foaly shrugged. "Well, even fairies can believe in urban legends. I mean, some humans still believe you can boil a toad if you do it slowly enough."

"True...but where does a legend like that even come from?"

"Eh...probably some macho hunter making a joke about the rarity of unicorns. 'I'll get a unicorn just as soon as I find a virgin.' Something like that"

Artemis nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right." He took a piece of straw from the unicorn's hay, twisting it in his fingers for a few moments. "So...it doesn't necessarily mean that Juliet..."

Foaly laid an oddly comforting hand on Artemis's shoulder and shook his head. "Let me give you some advice, Artemis: stop the virgin hunt. You caught a unicorn today, and _that_ is miracle enough."

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: Plot! ("OMG," you say, "there's a plot?") After weeks of being the brunt of every joke, Artemis gets to be a badass.**


	12. It hurts like hell

**Chapter 12: It hurts like hell**

**January 8, 2012-Fowl Manor, the high lawn**

There is a saying about the weather in Ireland: the usual way to tell the difference between winter and summer is to measure the temperature of the rain.

This isn't precisely true, of course. The isle had its sunny days, snow, and other meteorological phenomena. In fact, as Artemis and Butler walked the grounds of Fowl Manor, it wasn't even raining, the days allotment having fallen earlier in the afternoon. It was, however, quite chilly, causing a red tinge to mar Artemis's normally pale face.

"Artemis, I know you're trying to maintain this phenomenally mysterious _façade_, but it is just making me nervous" Butler looked to the horizon, where an engorged yet not quite full moon was beginning to climb, occasionally covered by dark clouds. "Why did we have to take a walk _now_?"

Artemis held up his arm, pulling back the sleeve of his sports jacket to inspect his watch at length. "No need to be nervous, Butler. I'd recommend getting your phone out, however."

"What are you—"

_Brrrrrrring._

Butler looked down at his ward. "No way."

Artemis waved his free hand impatiently. "Answer, it, Butler. I'm on a tight schedule."

Obediently, Butler snapped the phone open, watching Artemis closely as he answered. "Hello?"

"Good evening, Domovoi."

Butler's empty fist clenched, his stomach souring. "Madame Ko. You have information, I'm guessing." His feet began to tingle. The man frowned, looking at the ground. His feet were not prone to tingles. Something was moving. Something _big_.

"Well, it is a very odd bit of information, but it seems that Koboi was seen leaving Kitagunma a few hours ago. My informant just managed to get to me on a secure line."

Butler looked to Artemis, who was still staring intently at his watch. "What was she doing?"

"Picking up an order from a company called Sakakibara Kikai, apparently. Rather late in the night for Japan, I might add."

"An order?"

Artemis put up three fingers, dropping them individually. 3...2...1...0. He pointed at the the woods in the back of the property.

The trees began to rustle alarmingly. A deep-toned call rang out from the woods.

"Yes. It's rather...well, it sounds like a horrible science fiction cartoon, but she picked up—"

Butler's jaw dropped. "A mechanical dinosaur?"

"Well...yes, actually."

Butler looked back to Artemis, who was grinning, twirling his hand in a "wrap it up" gesture, still staring at his watch.

"I'll have to call you back, Madam. Something just came up." Butler snapped his phone closed, turning to look at Artemis, arms crossed. "How did you know?"

Artemis finally stopped looking at his wrist, letting it fall back to his side as he turned to the bodyguard. "We had all the clues. It took watching cartoons with Beckett to make things click."

"And how did you know_ when_?"

Tugging on his lapels with both hands, the younger man gave Butler a smirk. "I'm Artemis Fowl."

"Ah...then how do we deal with that?" Butler gestured to the trees, many of which were now falling to the side, flashes appearing as metal caught the light of the setting sun.

"_You_ are going into the Manor, calling the LEP for a pickup, and keeping my family inside. _I_ will be dealing with _that_."

Butler considered targeting one of Artemis's nerve clusters and dragging the arrogant genius inside to wait for the LEP to handle things. Yet...if anyone had a plan that would work, it was him. "You..._do_ have a plan, right?"

Artemis looked offended. "Of course."

"A good one?"

"Rather good."

Butler rested a hand on Artemis's shoulder and took in a deep breath. "Don't die."

"It's not on the schedule."

"I doubt it is." Looking one last time at the collapsing woods, Butler nodded. "And give her one for me." That said, he made for the Manor, never looking back.

Artemis remained a good distance from the woods and about 20 meters from the hangar. Several minutes passed, and he got more restless with every passing second. Finally, with a glance at his watch, he grunted in frustration and cupped his hands around his mouth, calling out to his arch-nemesis. "Koboi! How much longer do I need to wait before you get that hunk out so we can end this?"

There was a pause in the tree's movement, accompanied by an odd clicking noise. Then a jet of flame erupted from the woods. It burned white-hot for nearly a minute before sputtering out.

A hole had been burned through the foliage. The few overhanging branches that had survived near the edges now smoking and grey with ash. At the end of the tunnel, its mouth glowing red, was an enormous metal raptor. Where its chest should have been solid, Koboi was cradled, smiling wildly. "Evening, Fowl."

Artemis tutted. "Goodness, was that really necessary? 30 seconds should have sufficed, and now you must be out of fuel."

The dinosaur began to walk through the tunnel, joints creaking, taloned feet dislodging enormous chunks of topsoil. "Certainly not. I still have a tank left before I need to refuel the flamethrower."

Artemis nodded, tapping a foot.

Koboi squinted, baring her teeth. "You don't seem very afraid, Mud Boy. I'm disappointed."

He shrugged. "Oh, that's because I've already won."

Cackling, Koboi finally emerged from the woods, putting her mecha into a crouch, ready to spring. "Then why not do the cliché hero thing and suggest that I surrender?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

Koboi smiled indulgently, playing with her controls. "I believe it's time you ran."

"Ah!" Artemis help up a finger, again consulting his digital watch. After a few moments, he nodded and lowered the finger. "Now."

Simultaneously, the raptor exploded into motion and Artemis began to run at a right angle to the creature, heading straight for the hangar. The damp ground allowed the dinosaur's claws to dig in deeply, turning sharply to follow Artemis's path. The man, however, had the advantage of proximity, darting through the door and sliding to the side just as the raptor's head crashed through behind him, snapping at his heels. With a mighty crunch, the mecha's shoulders caught on the door frame, keeping it outside.

Artemis looked about until he caught sight of a stray club hammer, left out from the last bit of work done on the Cessna. Grabbing it, he returned to the door, once again goading Koboi. "Shouldn't have gone for the size upgrade, Koboi?" He leaned back slightly, spinning his arm around and lunging forward, slamming the hammer into the raptor's head. "From Butler!"

A large dent now marred the raptors formerly well-shaped head. As if Koboi's own voice was not enough to convey her rage, the raptor screeched along with it's driver, momentarily deafening Artemis.

He shook his head and twisted a finger in his ear. "Hardly sporting, Koboi."

The head retreated. Soon after, the odd clicks began again.

"D'arvit." Artemis spun about, dashing for the work bench at the back of the hangar. He began twisting knobs and flipping switches, all while nodding and glancing back at the door.

Very quickly, the metal sidings began to turn red and warp until, with a screech of metal on metal, the mecha pushed the sheets aside, ducking awkwardly to get through the hole. Now moving slowly, as if stalking its prey, Koboi's raptor approached, teeth snapping together with every few steps.

Artemis rested his hand on a long metal tube, turning to face Koboi. "What in the world do you call that monstrosity?"

"Upsyelaytasyesaurus." Koboi said it effortlessly, patting a control fondly as she bore down on the human. "A bit of a mouthful, I know. It means 'high voltage lizard.'" She maneuvered it into a crouch, stretching the neck out, head a little over an arm's length from Artemis's body. Perfect decapitating distance.

"Ah. That is a rather unfortunate name." Artemis noted, leaning back slightly over the workbench.

Sighing, Koboi, flipped her long black hair. "Well, I _wanted_ it to shoot electricity, but apparently you Mud Men couldn't insulate the cockpit properly, so fire it was."

Shaking his head, Artemis responded, his voice soothing. Almost as if he was trying to reassure her. "Oh, that, isn't the problem at all."

"What," Koboi growled, one eye twitching, "is the 'problem,' then?"

"It's not the voltage that kills you. It's the current."

Artemis clenched his hand and swung, striking the tip of the arc welder against the nose of the Upsyelaytasyesaurus. There was a brief shriek of metal on metal, then he saw a spark. The spark thickened into a white and blue string as massive amounts of electricity began to course through the metal body.

Koboi seemed frozen, her muscles locked into place by the direct current. Her hands, holding the uninsulated controls, began to turn red, then black as her skin and muscles burned. Bolts of power flashed around the cockpit, striking her face and fizzing out, leaving yellow-black blisters. A bubbling keen began to escape her mouth, sending a chill down her opponent's spine.

Sparks began to fly back from the mecha's melting muzzle, some landing on and scorching Artemis's exposed hand. The heat and light began to attack his delicate skin, turning it red, as if he was developing a horrible sunburn. He gritted his teeth against the pain, holding his arm out as long as he could.

The circuit breakers went before he did. With a few rapid flickers and a loud pop, the lights went out. Panting, Artemis dropped the welder, taking several unsteady steps towards the exit.

The cockpit of the mecha was unnaturally silent, illuminated only by the fading light that came in through the hole where the door had been. Opal's hand flopped out, limp and charred, still twitching occasionally with the after-effects of the current.

'Did I...kill her?' Artemis thought, suddenly feeling a bit numb.

The charred hand jerked violently, scrambling for the edge of the mecha, burnt fingernails peeling off as they rubbed past. Red and blue sparks began to flow out of the cockpit as Koboi found purchase and pulled herself free, collapsing to the floor. When she staggered to her feet, her entire body was twitching, though Artemis began to suspect that it was more due to her fractured mental state than fried nerves. She staggered into the light and Artemis felt his stomach turn.

The wounds themselves were not healing, as with most fairy magic. Instead, new flesh was growing below. The blisters began to burst and ooze, sloughing off one-by-one, replaced with pink, new skin. Simultaneously, the scorched black bits was also being replaced, until it seemed that her entire body was shedding, just like a goblin. "That," she hissed, the sparks of healing retreating, replaced by swirling masses of sparks in her hands, "was_very_bad for my skin."

The smoldering body of the Upsyelaytasyesaurus began to shudder, panels and entire limbs disconnecting and flying through the air to surround Koboi, brushing so close to her body that the light displacement of air as they passed ruffled her hair. "Do you have any last things to say, Fowl?"

Artemis pondered this, then took a final look at his watch. "One minute left."

Koboi laughed, advancing. "Funnily enough, that was my _exact_ conclusion, as well." She swung an arm, the motion matching up to the mecha's head, which lashed out towards the man.

Artemis jumped back and out of the door, but not quickly enough. One of the raptor's teeth tore into his suit, moving cleanly across and cutting a centimeter deep gash in his chest. He gasped, eyes going unsteady as he reached up the the wound, which was already dripping with blood. Breathing hurt, making Artemis suspect that the raptor head had either broken or dislodged a rib.

He pinwheeled backwards, falling to the ground and crawling quickly across the lawn as Koboi calmly followed. She attacked swiftly, but now she used smaller pieces, cutting into Artemis's hands, legs, back, and head. He began to feel woozy quite quickly. 'Just...a little...further...'

"Still feeling cocky, _Mud Boy_?" Koboi shrieked, lifting the mecha pieces high into the air, poised for the final strike.

Artemis stopped crawling and turned over, lying flat on the ground. He grinned and nodded, face now covered in small rivulets of blood.

"How very...admirable?" Koboi smiled. It was an enchanting smile. Perhaps once, before she had begun to step into revenge and madness, she had broken hearts with that smile. "You remind me of a boy I once knew..." Then the smile faded, a muscle at the edge of her lips twitching. "But he was a fool, too." She lifted her arms into the air, matching them up to the mecha pieces, savoring the last breaths of Artemis Fowl II.

_Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep._

Koboi squinted, then focused on Artemis's watch.

Artemis lifted his head to look at her, giving her his own heart-breaking rogue's smile. "Time's up."

Directly in front of the pixie, a single sprinkler head popped up. A hissing noise of flowing water began to build.

"What—"

Water erupted from the sprinkler head, quickly drenching Koboi. She sighed, exasperated. "I'm not the Wicked Witch of the West, Fowl."

Then her arms began to tremble.

Above her, the metal shards began to crash together, spiraling down erratically. Koboi looked up, clenching her jaw as she pushed her arms back up, trying to keep the raptor pieces in the air. Yet they only descended faster, until Koboi finally looked at her nemesis, eyes wide in panic. "F-Fowl! What have you—"

Then her control shattered, the metal shooting towards the ground

"_FOWL!_" Koboi screeched, cradling her head with her arms and crouching as the metal crashed over her. Water continued to fall on the mass for a few more seconds before, with another hiss, the sprinkler descended into the ground.

Artemis sighed in relief and let his head flop to the ground. He could feel his blood pressure dropping from his numerous wounds and his vision began to black out. "Okay, Holly," he muttered, delirious, "you have three minutes."

It took her one to arrive, accompanied by Trouble and Vinyáya.

"Artemis!" Holly gasped, landing at his side and brushing the hair from his eyes. Blue sparks danced from her left hand, healing his face as she began searching the rest of his body with her right hand, fixing the major wounds before her magic began to sputter out. "D'arvit, Arty, what were you doing?"

Shakily, he sat up, wiping the blood from his face. "Catching Koboi."

Vinyáya approached the pile of rubble, scowling. "How did you know she was coming?"

Using Holly as a crutch, Artemis stood. Taking a moment before responding, he shook his head, a few drops of blood flying off his damp hair.

Trouble jumped back from them quite agilely, glaring at the human.

"Last month was an eclipse, remember? No Rituals during an eclipse, so this was the perfect time for her to strike, while the People's magic was low."

Scowling, Trouble's fingers tapped his hip, next to his gun. "You told us that she would consider that to be too obvious a time to attack."

Artemis shrugged. "I lied. Surprised?"

Shaking her head at the banter, Vinyáya began moving pieces of the mecha. She looked at the mecha's head, inspecting the large hole burned in its snout. "Looks like a thunderstorm got her."

"No, just an arc welder." When the Wing Commander looked at him, he continued, "I made some...alterations to its power supply."

"No kidding. I suppose she is under all this?

"Yes. Just watch out for the—"

"Ack!" Vinyáya cringed as a curved sheet of metal full of water tipped over, dousing her. She gasped, clutching her chest and giving Artemis a death glare.

"Holy water."

Holly looked up at him, obviously impressed. "Holy water sprinklers?"

He nodded. "I thought it was rather clever. Mulch helped."

Vinyáya grumbled and continued shifting the metal. "Well, I hope you feel that the wounds are worth the bragging rights. We're all tapped out, now."

Frowning, Artemis looked at the Retrieval Commander. "What about you?"

Trouble scoffed. "Mud Boy, even if I had the magic, I wouldn't waste it on _you_."

Seeing her friend's still-confused look, Holly tugged on his arm, pulling him down to whisper in his ear. "I told Vinyáya about his...claims before the big meeting. She beat him bloody."

Artemis chuckled, then winced, holding his chest. The wound was closed, but the bone and muscles were still badly bruised. "Well, that is unfortunate. I'll have Butler ready a room for Major Short."

Vinyáya, who had just begun lifting the Upsyelaytasyesaurus's heavy tail, which had been resting on Koboi's head, suddenly lost her grip. Cringing, she stepped away from the further-injured pixie. "A room? Presumptuous, Fowl. What makes you think she's staying?"

Resting a hand on Holly's shoulder, he enumerated. "You two, as commanders, will have your hands full with the aftermath, so you obviously cannot stay to complete the healing."

Now actually clutching his Neutrino, Trouble shook his head. "Oh, no. You can go to a hospital and heal the nice, slow, _painful_ Mud Man way."

Artemis put on a sad look, speaking with a wistful tone. "After all we've been through together, Commander?"

"We haven't been through _anything_, _boy_."

"Precisely." Artemis glared down at the elf. "_I_ caught Koboi, not you, and unless you want me to send a press release to the People every day detailing how my wounds are coming along, I _need_ healing, and I _want_ Holly."

Holly looked up at Artemis, shocked. He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and she looked back down, biting her lower lip and smiling.

Looking between them, Vinyáya pondered this. Artemis _had_ lied about Koboi's plans, but there was no denying that he had, once again, done the People a great service. He deserved a full healing, and Holly was the logical choice. "Very well. The full moon is tomorrow night. Get him knitted up and be back at E1 by dawn."

Both Holly and Trouble looked puzzled. Healing would not take until dawn. Then Holly caught Vinyáya's eyes, one of which closed in a coy wink. Smiling, Holly returned the wink. "Yes, Commander."

The older woman grabbed Trouble, pulling him towards the pile, throwing a last warning over her shoulder "Don't be late, and don't make me file any incident reports on you, Major."

Holly rolled her eyes and wrapped an arm around her friend's waist to support his weight. "Come on, Artemis. Let's get you inside before Butler has a fit."

They began staggering toward the Manor, Artemis breathing loudly and hissing through his teeth with every few steps.

Hoping to distract him from the pain, Holly began musing on her unofficial leave. "A day and a half free, no imminent danger...whatever shall we do with ourselves?"

Artemis looked down at her, a bright light appearing in his eyes. "Have you ever seen 'Labyrinth?'"

"A human-made movie? What, don't you think we have good entertainment in Haven?"

"Oh, you may have your own cinema, but you do _not_ have David Bowie. You are in for a _treat_."

* * *

Later...

It was an awkward experience, sitting in the living room with Holly, the lights off. Artemis had sat a bit off-center on the enormous couch, giving Holly the opportunity to sit on the other side, far from him. Instead, she had sat on the cushion next to her friend, close enough to touch shoulders.

As the movie started up, entering the rather lengthy opening credits, Holly spoke up. "That was easily the stupidest thing you've ever done. What were you thinking?"

They looked at each other and Artemis shrugged dismissively. "If I had contacted the LEP, she would have found out and never made her move, leaving us back where we were before I realized what was going on. I had to do this alone."

"That's a lie, Artemis, and you know it."

He sighed in disappointment at her lack of faith, turning back to the screen. "Well...then perhaps I was trying to impress you." He smiled and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes.

Holly's hands grabbed the couch cushions and she looked forward, as well. "Then congratulations. You succeeded."

Bowie crooned on, filling the awkward silence that followed. "It's only forever...not long at all. Lost and lonely. That's underground. Underground."

Artemis glanced down ever so slightly, looking at Holly's hand resting on the cushions between them. His own hand, which had been resting on his lap, began to slowly inch towards hers. His heart began to beat erratically, speeding up and stopping with no warning, causing an odd falling sensation in his chest. He licked his lips and looked at Holly's face.

She was already deeply caught up in this tale of the young girl battling the Goblin King, her eyes wide in wonder. The light played across her face, highlighting the battle-hardened yet still young features that he so rarely had the time to really take in. She looked...perfect.

'Not yet,' Artemis thought, folding his hands back on his lap. 'Not _quite _yet.'

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: Another multi-story chapte**r**! 1) Holly discovers the deep, dark secret of 'Labyrinth_._' 2) One last bit of Artemis-torturing as his mother gets rather...miffed. 3) He wants _REVENGE!

* * *

_**

**Tthe Upsyelaytasyesaurus thing was not random. It was actually the result of me listening to The Opal Deception, hearing a throwaway line, and yelling "THAT WOULD BE _AWESOME_!" The line: ****"'And what is it this time?' Artemis asked mockingly. 'Another orchestrated rebellion? Or perhaps a mechanical dinosaur?'" -Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception, page 173**

**Pronunciation: ****up-sye-lay-tas-ye (with the 'a' in 'lay' a hard 'a', and the 'a' in 'tas' a soft 'a')**


	13. Enlarging on a particular subject

**Chapter 13: Enlarging on a particular subject**

**January 8, 2012-Fowl Manor**

"No, you do _not_ let Ludo down! He is a troll, he will _eat you!_"

Holly was apparently the type of person who loved to talk during movies. Normally, this kind of behavior would have annoyed Artemis, but he had seen_Labyrinth_ nigh on three dozen times, and Holly's comments were rather amusing. She seemed to be having difficulty separating the world she knew from the world in the movie, leading her to constantly jump to very inaccurate conclusions.

"So Hoggle is...a goblin?" Holly had inquired in the middle of the movie, looking puzzled.

"No. He's a dwarf." Artemis had replied.

"But...he's not hairy enough to be a dwarf, and he doesn't appear to have any teeth."

"Well, Jareth looks nothing like a goblin, but he's the Goblin King."

"I'd assumed he was a puppet ruler." When Artemis merely gave her a bland look at this joke, she went on. "I mean, he resembles a gnome more than anything."

"Then what about his love of jewelry? That is a dwarf trait."

"So is a love of bad smells, and he doesn't seem to revel in the Bog of Eternal Stench the way Mulch would."

"Fine. Pretend he's a gnome, if that makes you feel better."

Holly crossed her arms, slouching on the couch. "Not really."

Other arguments had come up, including a rather heated reaction from Holly over the Four Guards ("Wait...she got the answer right, didn't she?" "Yes, she picked the correct door." "...Jareth is a dick!"). She seemed most amused by the movie's scenery, yelling "GLITTER!" every time the shiny stuff appeared. Which was about once a minute. Artemis suddenly wished that Holly could accept liquor from a human. If he had challenged her to a drinking game for this film, Holly would be trashed in under twenty minutes. He was intensely curious about how the elf would act when drunk.

Holly was also fairly critical of the Goblin King, looking uncomfortable whenever he appeared. Finally, as the man's first dance number began, she voiced one of her concerns. "Why is Jareth so interested in this 'Sarah' girl?"

"Well, obviously he's in love with her."

"But...isn't he...gay?"

Looking scandalized, Artemis protested. "No! What brought you to that conclusion?"

"Artemis...seriously." Holly waved to the screen. "This is his—what?—third change of outfit, and we're only barely into the movie."

"That is a rather offensive thing to say. It doesn't mean anything."

She snorted. "He's wearing glitter and _lip gloss_."

Narrowing his eyes, Artemis poked Holly's forehead, actually making her fall to her back. "Do not question the masculinity of David Bowie."

She fluttered her fingers in the air, mimicking the Goblin King's odd movements. "I'm finding it hard to take him seriously when he dances like that. I mean...Trouble can dance better than that. _I_ can dance better than that."

"Indeed you can."

She grabbed one of the ornamental couch pillows and hit him in the chest. "Stuff it, Mud Man."

As the movie neared its close and the adventurer's faced off against the Goblin City's metal guardian, Holly suddenly sat ram-rod straight, eyes wide. She turned to Artemis, words stumbling a bit as she fought to get them out. "It's t-the Fowl Siege!"

After a moment's pause, he turned to the woman, eyebrows furrowed. "This movie was made long before, Holly. I don't see how you're making such a connection. It's quite different."

She waved this protest off, obviously excited about her discovery. "Okay, so it's the Fowl Siege as told by a human who heard the story from a drunk goblin, directly afterward taking a hit of acid and talking to a production company with a limited special effects budget, but an unlimited supply of _glitter_." Seeing his skeptical look, he elaborated. "Sarah is me, just as a human. Hoggle is Mulch. Ludo is the troll...much altered, of course. They're all trying to get into a supposedly impenetrable stronghold to return something stolen by the Goblin King. That metal knight must be Butler when he fought the troll!"

"Which makes me...?"

"Jareth."

Artemis looked flattered. "Very well, but who is Sir Didymus?"

At this, she seemed puzzled. "Let's see...high-ranking, very confident, a good fighter, loves to taunt his enemies, hot-headed..."

They spoke at the same time. "Julius." Holly began to giggle, imagining her former commander as a hyper fox puppet. She was still shaking occasionally as the final confrontation arrived. As the Goblin King appeared in his last change of costume, she turned a bit green and pointed at the screen. "I knew it! He's wearing a codpiece!"

Artemis couldn't resist. He gave Holly a scathing look, as if severely disappointed in her. "And why, pray tell, do you assume that?"

She snorted, trying to focus on her friend, but her eyes kept flickering back to the King's crotch. "I'm sorry, but nobody's junk is that big. Or that symmetrical."

He raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Have you seen..._enough_ of humans to be sure?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response." She seemed to pause in speculation, growing more disturbed by the moment. "But if that isn't a codpiece...remind me to never have sex with a human."

With his voice lowered to a deep purr, Artemis put a finger under Holly's chin, lifting her head and lowering his own until their noses touched. "Holly," he said, his breath brushing across her lips, "the only situation where I would have the opportunity to do so, I would be neither capable nor wiling to remind you."

In an instant, the elf turned red, the color extending all the way to her ear tips. With a mighty shove against his shoulders, she propelled them both to opposite ends of the couch, grabbed one of the decorative pillows, and held it in front of her chest like a shield.

Artemis smirked and stretched his arms, resting them over the back of the couch. He turned his attention back to the movie, leaving Holly to cower in confusion.

* * *

**June 6, 2009-Killashee House Hotel, Naas, Ireland**

Angeline Fowl had been rather surprised to learn that entering legitimate business required her family to attend twice as many social gatherings as they had needed to when conducting less-than-legal ventures. Considering that illegal business deals required much more social networking, the emphasis on public appearances among high-class businessmen was a bit absurd. They did not need to form bonds of trust that would allow them to stare at each other from across dimly-lit tables while their bodyguards stood by the sidelines, guns at the ready should someone sneeze off cue. Yet the posh loved their little parties.

The Sunshine Charity Ball was the perfect opportunity to show off the Fowl Empire's continued strength. The twins, now nearly four years old, were scowling at (Myles) and playing with (Beckett) the other children in a side chamber while the adults waltzed and gossiped in the main ballroom. Artemis was staying close to his parents whenever they were not dancing, often giving his mother a pleading look. 'Please,' it said, 'get me out of this hell.'

The few teenage girls who were also attending the events with their families were eying him speculatively, tittering to each other whenever he glanced their way. It wouldn't be long before he was approached by one of their mothers, stalking him as marriage-prey.

Angeline was giving her son a reassuring pat when a high-pitched voice rang out, drilling into her ear. "Oh my goodness! Is that...no, it can't be!" The voice's owner touched Angeline's shoulder, causing the woman to turn about and inspect her. She was a squat woman with an enormous red up-do and an ancient-looking pair of _pince-nez_ glasses. "That looks just like the diamond in Lady Fei Fei's tiara! The precise shade and shape...it's really quite striking." She stopped looking at Mrs. Fowl's chest and tilted her head up to look at her face, a rather malicious glint in her eyes. "Manufactured, I presume?"

Timmy look at his wife, alarmed. He was not a very fashion-conscious man and had assumed that her _haute couture_ lavender ball gown was matched with appropriate custom-made jewelry. Sporting fake gemstones was a major _faux pas_ at such a high-class event. His wife had been raised in the same upper-class environment as himself, and he assumed she knew this most steadfast of ritzy rules: the hair and boobs may be fake, but the rocks had best be real.

Putting on her best coquettish attitude, Angeline laughed melodiously, toying with the jewel. "A project of my eldest. Right Arty?" She looked at him, smiling. The smile faltered a bit when she noted his stony expression. He was schooling his reactions, keeping all emotion inside.

"Why, yes. It was a science project for school. I made a ultrasound cavitation chamber about the size of your purse, madam. Once it was operational, creating a diamond of the appropriate size and color was simple, and tasking a jeweler to copy the design was similarly easy." He caught the woman's eyes, his own quite cold. "The color matches my father's and my own eyes. I had it done while he was lost in Russia and presumed dead. It has great sentimental meaning to my mother, as it gave her hope that he was alive."

The conversation came to an abrupt halt as the woman tried to find a way to be catty without being called out for her behavior. Ridiculing a woman for wearing a stone created by her son to commemorate a lost husband was not _precisely_ a wise social maneuver. "Ah...it is a stunning recreation, then. Oh, goodness, is that the Princess Renaldo? I really must ask her about her work with Housing for the Hopeful...ta!" She dashed off, her place in the ballroom and the conversation quickly being filled by more amenable guests.

Angeline rested a hand on her eldest son's shoulder, guiding him into one of the ballroom's many empty side chambers. She turned him to face her, forcing him to catch her eyes. Not many people could tell when Artemis was lying, but Angeline was learning to catch the signs. Perhaps he merely had difficulties lying to her, but he always broke eye contact when he was trying to hide something. "Arty...this isn't a created diamond, is it?"

"Well..." he hedged, "it exists, so something did, _technically_, create it."

"I _meant _some human or fairy technology, not natural forces. This diamond...it really was in Lady Fei Fei's tiara, wasn't it?"

Looking like a roundly scolded puppy, Artemis nodded.

"I can't believe..." Angeline glared at her son, causing him to flinch. Her temper was rarely summoned, but once it was, she was difficult to placate. "What you did was _wrong_. Bah, I say that as if you aren't fully aware of the fact! You knew precisely what you were doing when you stole this diamond, and you need to own up to that. You are _grounded_, Arty. For a month!"

"But...but..." Artemis wasn't sure which to protest: the fact that he was being grounded for something he had done over six years ago or the fact that he was being grounded for a month for stealing a priceless gem. Finally, he settled on a greater concern. "Are you going to...give it back?"

Angeline played with the necklace, looking pensive. "Well...I suppose no one has noticed the difference...and it really is quite special to me..." She gave her son a small, embarrassed smile.

Artemis felt his shoulders droop slightly as his tension released. Angeline Fowl was easily the most noble member of his family...but she was still a Fowl.

* * *

**January 20, 2014-The Lower Elements, LEP headquarters, Warlock offices**

If the creature's mind could have been heard, its ranting would have sent the listener cowering in fear. Deep and sharp, cracked from its months in accursed confinement, it dwelled on its mission.

_Tear. Rend! End them all! Look at what they did to me...yes, they must pay. This is an outrage! I should be their king! The should bow before me. Throw me their sons to feed my sword and their daughters to placate my desires. They shall wish they had never crossed my path, oh yes. This insult is not to be born! Yes, cut them off from the outside world. Let them fester in this hole like they let me fester in that cage. Insult to match insult? No! For nothing they could suffer would equal even the first minute of my indignation. Bite. Sever. Take them out! I—hey, let me go! Let me down! You fu—_

Foaly stood up, holding a squirming rodent by the scruff of the neck, his hand outstreatched. The creature twisted violently, emitting an angry clicking that sounded like rubber moving against rubber. "What the...okay, who forgot to lock N'zall's cage this time?"

The guinea pig squealed louder at this name, as if threatening the centaur with grievous bodily hard. Which he was, as everyone knew quite well. Still, it was hard to be intimidated by a ball of fuzz, no matter what it had been in its previous life.

One demoness warlock intern raised her hand, small red sparks jetting out of her nubby horns. "I thought the latch..." She trailed off, knowing her excuse was no good. Guinea pig N'zall, formerly the demon Leon Abbott, was well known for his dexterity. They had recently been told to stop giving him miniature swords, as an intern had nearly lost a finger after N'zall attacked while his water was being changed.

Unceremoniously tossing the rodent into his cage and clicking a ludicrously oversized padlock into place, Foaly turned to the warlocks-in-training. "You know, I am not going to keep doing IT for you all if every time I come in here N'zall is running about biting wires. I don't fix stupid."

A pretty female pixie popped her head into the room, brightening as she caught sight of the tech genius. "Sir! An urgent request from Councilman Lope!"

Foaly perked up. He loved working on the Council's computers. It was amazing the kinds of equipment they could afford. Not having to face budget cuts (as they were the ones imposing them) did wonders for your tech setup. "Incompatibility issues? System crash? Hacking by an unknown and sinister force?"

"No, sir. He's having problems with his monitor, sir. It's all dark, he says."

"...is it plugged in?"

"I didn't ask, sir."

Rubbing one of his horns, Foaly clopped out of the warlock's room, muttering to himself. "Caballine is right. I'm due a vacation."

* * *

**Next time on _Fowl Shorts_: Holly and Artemis's face their most high-stakes mission yet.**


	14. Too early to say goodnight

**While this is not a songfic, there is one song that I was listening to constantly while writing the latter half of this chapter, and it's sort of the soundtrack. "Stolen" by Dashboard Confessionals. For the full effect, I recommend starting it at "Holly was impressed."**

* * *

**Chapter 14: Too early to say goodnight**

**January 25, 2014-Haven suburbs**

It was to be their most dangerous mission to date. Artemis Fowl and Holly Short sat shoulder to shoulder, desperately forcing down the bile rising in their throats. Success would mean a small thanks from a good friend, while failure would glean the unmitigated rage of the most intimidating woman in the Lower Elements. Guns would be of no use and genius could only get them so far in this situation. They were entering forbidden, dangerous territory.

Babysitting.

Artemis and Holly sat together on the couch, looking about the spacious living room. Every room in the centaur's apartment being spacious, due to their awkward dimensions, though they also included plenty of humanoid-friendly furniture (like the couch), due to the LEP's frequent visits. The human leaned over slightly, speaking out of the side of his mouth. "I understand why they chose you, but why am _I_ here?"

Holly didn't bother leaning, as it would only take her mouth further from the human's ear, but she did copy his sideways speech. "They were worried I didn't have enough experience with children, and you apparently offered Caballine some assistance."

Artemis thought back and huffed. "Five years ago! Besides, she didn't have a baby then. That alters things considerably."

"Flash is two and a half years old. That isn't a baby, even by fairy standards." Fairy children aged slightly slower than humans, leaving the major slow of aging for their later pubescence. Nature was, apparently, quite cruel, leaving them to undergo a thirty year puberty. "He's what you would call a 'toddler.'"

"Toddler" actually wasn't the best of terms to use, either. Foaly and Caballine's son had been able to walk since an hour after his birth (on Christmas Day, 2011, as it happened), much like most horses. Artemis had been puzzled about how a newborn part-human could support itself properly when standing, but "it's magic" seemed a good enough explanation.

Flash was actually the foal's nickname. He was truly "Flashdrive," but few dared call him that in Caballine's presence. She had been drugged off her haunches for the birth, leaving Foaly to name his firstborn. He had spent the next two months sleeping in the living room, only rescued from permanent exile by the name's convenient shortening.

Caballine clopped into the living room, closely followed by Foaly. She was, as usual, quite stunning, resembling the likely product of a merger between "Barbie" and "My Little Pony," with a softness, realism, and class that both lines lacked. She was searching rather unsuccessfully in her purse for a starter chip for their van, all while giving rapid-fire instructions. "Flash is still asleep, but he'll be awake soon. He gets a half-block of hay for breakfast and apple slices for a snack about two hours later. Let him choose his lunch, but don't give him anything too sugar-filled, or you'll never get him down for his nap. Dinner for all of you is in the refrigerator (don't worry, Artemis, it's a salad), no need to slice or heat anything. Bedtime is 7am, no exceptions. He's a terror if he gets grumpy. You have all our numbers, and Foaly is monitoring all outgoing calls in case you dial emergency services. We'll be over right away if we see a call to them. Got it?"

Holly who had spent the last hour getting a crash-course in parenting while Foaly picked up her partner for the day, blinked, mind a bit numb. "Er...what was that about a nap?" She could use one, already.

Artemis had no such processing problems. He held up a laptop case, addressing Foaly. "I was in the middle of writing an expose on Spiro, to go out before his parole hearing. I really _must_ finish. Are you wired for the Internet?"

Foaly threw back his head, whinnying shrilly, clutching his stomach. The centaur laughs continued for a good two minutes, with Holly, Caballine, and finally Artemis giving him an annoyed look. When he managed to stop whinnying long enough to switch to occasional sobs of laughter, he reached up to wipe a few tears away. "Ah...'wired.' Come on, Mud Man. Let's see if I've got a—snerk—Ethernet cable adaptor lying about. I doubt your little wireless receiver will even recognize my transmitter."

Artemis followed Foaly into the kitchen, quite obviously offended. "If my computer does not recognize your wireless, it is because you guard the design like a dragon with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder." Artemis looked about the room, whose walls were lined with flat, curving sculptures, with a chest-high table (to Artemis, the table being at head-height for the centaurs, for ease of grazing) dominating the center.

In the center of the table was a bronze sculpture of a rearing, muscular centaur. It was pointing forward, as if leading a charge, aiming its rather long horns at an unseen enemy. Artemis pointed at it. "Some sort of centaur war hero?"

Foaly, who had been nearly burrowing in the kitchen's catch-all drawer, popped up with a long chord. "What? Oh..." Seeing what Artemis was referring to, he trotted up, chest puffed out proudly. "That's one of Caballine's. It's me."

First taking a long look at Foaly, then at the sculpture, Artemis considered this. Hesitantly, he reached out and poked the centaur's well-padded stomach.

Backing up, Foaly snorted. "Hey, hands off. I'm not some sort of dough-boy. Besides, it's artistic license."

"Then Caballine needs hers revoked." He reached up just in time to catch the chord as it careened towards his head. He looked at it for a while before addressing a much more pressing concern than Mrs. Foaly's art skills.

"I'm very curious. How did you manage to get me into Haven? I haven't been allowed back down since Koboi was sent back to her proper time, and Holly can hardly get a surface visa for a visit every few months."

Waving his hand dismissively, Foaly gave his answer. "I told the Council that I would push The Button if you weren't allowed down to assist Holly."

"...a button."

"No. _THE_ Button."

"Ah..."

"Foaly, Honey!" Caballine called from the entrance hallway. "The galleries open in thirty minutes. We do _not_ want to be late. I'm sure you'll enjoy this one on goblin paintings."

Grimacing, Foaly made his way to the exit, calling back. "I love you and you're entitled to your opinion."

There was a mighty thwack as his wife hit him with her purse.

Artemis and Holly joined the couple near the door, awaiting final instructions. Being the concerned mother, Caballline was, of course, the one to give them. "Remember, all the numbers you'll need are on the fridge. Do _not_ hesitate to call if you run into any problems." She reached for the door, but turned at the last moment, giving her fairy friend a wicked look. "Oh, and Holly...be good."

Holly started to protest, but the centaurs slipped out of the door, locking it behind them

Obviously amused by the admonishment, Artemis shook a finger at Holly's face. "Be good."

She snapped at his hand, causing him to dance back, grinning. "I'll be working in the dining room, should you need me." He sauntered towards the doorway, quite pleased with himself.

Holly stomped her foot. "I do not _need_ you."

He rested his hand on the door frame, leaning back slightly to look at her over his shoulder. "You'll say differently by the end of the night." Then he disappeared, leaving an awkward silence that was soon inadequately filled by the click of keys.

"Stupid Mud Man." Holly muttered, dragging herself into the living room and collapsing on the couch, her arm draped over her eyes. She wasn't so much tired as trying to escape reality. 'I am stuck for the day with a centaur foal and an adult human. _On my day off_. Foaly owes me, _big time_.'

She lay there for several minutes, savoring her isolation, until a chill began to edge up her arms and back, making her extremities tingle. Someone was watching her.

'It's probably that _jerk_ of a Mud Man, sneaking in here to watch me sleep. I am going to kill that per—' She snapped her eyes open mid-thought.

A young centaur, thirty centimeters tall at his haunches and sixty at his head, stood before her, shifting his weight from hoof to hoof. His tail flipped about quickly, showing his agitation, as if he had read the elf's thoughts. "Hi, Aunt Holly."

Holly swung her legs off the couch, resting her elbows on her thighs so she could lean over to the child's level. "Hi, Flash. How are you?"

Ignoring the question in typical toddler fashion, he stuck out his lower lip. "Where's Momma?" He rubbed a hand over his horn buds (they had yet to break the surface) in much the same manner that a human child would rub its eyes to chase away sleep.

"You're parents are going out for the day, remember? I'm here to watch you."

As with all children capable of speech, Flash decided that this arrangement was unacceptable. "I can take care of myself."

Giving the foal a jolly smile ('Wait,' she thought, 'why do I feel like "jolly" is a bad move?'), she pointed out the problem with this statement. "Can you even get to your breakfast?"

Condescension is not a good way to deal with children. They can smell ridicule a mile away. "Yes! Watch!"

Before Holly could process what he had said, Flash galloped into the kitchen. Alarmed, she ran after, shouting. "No! I'll get it!"

By the time she caught up to the centaur-let, he had already pulled out a section of drawers to make a shaky stairway and was clopping about on the counter. Klaxons ringing in her head, Holly pounced on the little adventurer, sweeping him to the floor. "No! You know you're not allowed to do that!" She shoved the drawers back in place and straightened up. Then she heard clapping.

Artemis was watching, giving her light applause. "A masterful start. Do you do this often?"

"You could have helped me!" Holly snarled, gripping the counter, convinced this was what a heart attack felt like.

"I thought you didn't need me."

"...right." Thrown, Holly looked about, trying to recall where the centaurs kept their hay.

"I want oats!" Flash stomped a back hoof, tossing his buzz-cut dishwater-blond mane.

"You're mother said hay for breakfast, and that is what you're getting." Finally recalling the kitchen setup, she took a block of hay out and broke it in half, crumbling the dense cube into a bowl. She plopped it unceremoniously on the dining room table, directly across from Artemis. She sat at the head, slumped over from the first crisis.

Flash trotted up a small ramp that allowed him to reach the tabletop. He frowned at the food, then finally seemed to notice Artemis. "Are you a human?"

"Indeed."

"Artemis Fowl?"

"Correct, again."

"Daddy says you're 'a bane on his existence' and 'Aunt Holly should forget you.'"

"...that is debatable." Artemis looked to the elf (who was covering her eyes with some force), intrigued. "Why would he say that?"

"'Cause—"

Holly slammed her hands on the table. "Eat your hay!"

The boys looked at her, then returned their attention to each other. Artemis jerked a thumb in her direction, mouthing a response. "Women."

Flash gave a brief whicker and began grazing.

"What's so funny?" Holly asked, looking to the older male, who only shrugged and went back to work.

Playtime followed breakfast, and it was here that Holly excelled. Hide and seek seemed her game of choice. Despite her shielding ability, she played fair, never going invisible. "Fair," however, being relative to a highly trained LEP major, of course. From his spot in the kitchen, Artemis watched some truly spectacular hiding places. At one point, she actually vaulted off the couch and perched on one of the roof beams, watching Flash look all over the ground level for twenty minutes before dropping directly behind the foal, scaring him so badly he stampeded around the entire apartment three times before tagging her and declaring her "It."

Snack time went well, but things began to go horribly wrong at lunch. Flash declared lunch to be oats, which was reasonable enough to Holly. She set the dish up quite easily, ladling out a trio of bowls that even Artemis found appetizing. Setting bowls, soy milk, and a small bowl of sugar on the table, she addressed her charge. "Anything to go with it?"

Looking deep in thought, Flash stirred his bowl, then pounded his back hooves in excitement. "Strawberries!"

Holly considered this. "I think there's some in the fridge. One second." She began rooting through the food, oblivious to the drama playing itself out in the dining room.

Flash stood on his back hooves, resting his front hooves on the table so he could reach over and grab the sugar. He proceeded to dump it on his oats, stir briefly, and pour the mixture down his throat, giving a loud belch at the end.

The entire procedure took five seconds. Artemis spent the first four frozen in horror. The last was spent standing. When Holly turned back, his jaw was hanging down and he wasn't breathing.

"What's wrong?"

"A sudden consumption of glucose, inevitably leading to a rapid metabolism of the energy and an increase in physical activity."

She rolled her eyes. "Gnomish, Mud Man."

He picked up and displayed the empty sugar bowl. "You are _screwed_."

Chewing her cheek, Holly looked her comrade in the eyes. "Well, it can't be that bad. It was only a little bit...right?"

Four hours later, Holly was darting down the hallways after a _very_ fast and _very_ destructive foal. Artemis had taken the fifteen minutes between fueling and takeoff to hide all of the smaller breakable items in the bedrooms and office, finding a key to lock them just in time. Most of the chaos now related to a liberal spray of toys and children's books, which continued to migrate at a surprisingly high volume from Flash's bedroom.

This protection of property was as far as Artemis was willing to help. He now sat in one of the armchairs, which he had turned to cover a maximum view of the hallways.

LEP training is no match for a hyperactive centaur, as it turns out. After several ambushes, Holly had only just managed to catch Flash's tail. Instead of stopping, however, he just turned on the speed, pulling the elf off her feet and hauling her down the halls. It took a well-aimed hick to the hands to make Holly let go, and she proceeded to lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling.

Artemis vacated his throne to lean over his friend, arms crossed. "Going well?"

"No—yeek!" She threw her arms over her face as Flash bounded over. "Not really." She finished, shakily.

"Truly, I weep for you."

Holly put her index fingers together, twisting them slightly. She looked exactly like a junior-high school girl about to ask a boy if he had a date for the mid-winter dance. "Artemis, could you...?"

He was not going to make this easy. "Holly, what do you need?"

Looking away, she whispered. "I need you."

Reaching down, Artemis gave her a hand up, grinning. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear that." When the female officer jerked her hand away, he merely reached out and rubbed her head, mussing up her hair (or as much as you can muss up a crew cut).

"I meant 'I need your help!'"

"Certainly," he responded, walking to the front door, "what else could you have meant?" Ignoring her sputters, he began looking through the purses and jackets before pulling out what appeared to be a small backpack. "Flash!"

The centaur stopped his stampede, rearing like a fighting stallion.

"Outside?" Artemis called.

"OUTSIDE!" Barreling past Holly, nearly knocking her down, he stood by Artemis's side, too excited to keep his hooves still.

Artemis slipped the backpack on Flash's horse torso, fixing it with a clasp on the underside and attaching a long leash to the back loop.

Holly looked at the arrangement and shook her head. "Artemis, you don't have to act like he's a _dog_."

Artemis opened the door and braced himself.

Flash shot out, nearly dislocating the human's shoulder when he reached the end of the lead.

"He's a toddler on a sugar high. There isn't that much of a difference. Besides, if Foaly and Caballine _kept_ a leash, it means they use it. Now, are you going to join me for walkies?"

Muttering about protecting him from zealous fairies, Holly followed Artemis out.

There was an enclosed park not far from the apartment. Though it was near dinnertime, many children were still running about, watched by a circle of gossiping mothers. Flash neighed loudly on sight, straining harder against the lead. Holly had barely closed the gate when Artemis undid the backpack, letting the child charge off. She nodded, a bit impressed in spite of herself. It was the logical solution, though she doubted she could walk the centaur. He was shorter than her, but his horse body was powerful. "Now what?"

"We engage in the time-honored practice of parents at the park: schmoozing."

Much to Holly's annoyance, Artemis rested an arm on her shoulders (or as much of his arm as he could, what with the height difference) and steered her towards the circle of women talking next to the water fountain. "Good day, ladies!"

There was a tense silence as the women took in the approaching pair, then their hyperactive charge. One dwarf female (devoid of a beard, though her wild hair mostly masked this fact) ventured a remark. "Adopted?"

"Oh, no," Artemis positively beamed, catching all of them off guard with an infectious smile. "Babysitting. I'm on loan from the surface." He put his hand to his mouth, speaking around the back in a conspiratorial whisper. "Special request to the Council."

Another woman, this time what appeared to be a gilled and bat-winged pixie (an Atlantean, Artemis would soon confirm), laid a hand on her chest, breathing a mighty sigh. "Oh, thank Frond. I thought..."

"'There goes the neighborhood,' am I right?"

The women laughed at their mistake.

Holly felt the hand on her shoulder tighten and looked up. Some of the dazzle had left Artemis's eyes. 'He's...disappointed in them. Why?'

Whatever was disturbing Artemis, only Holly seemed to notice. Rather than returning to their gossip (which would have soon left even Artemis in confusion), they moved onto a discussion of the most recent restrictions on fish imports. Artemis seemed quite knowledgeable about the changes. The reticence the women held about conversing with _the_ Artemis Fowl soon gave way to what could be called a "tizzy."

Holly remained mostly silent, only speaking when she had been addressed directly. She glowered at the ground, putting up with the debate for a half hour before tugging on Artemis's pant leg. "It's getting kind of late. How much longer does Flash need?"

The man glanced over at the playing children. "He should crash...ah, there he goes."

Flash had stopped mid-frolic, locking his legs into place. His torso drooped as he put all his energy into keeping his eyes open. If he had been a full horse, his muzzle would have been firmly planted in the grass.

"I'll get him." Artemis volunteered, darting off to catch their charge before he toppled over.

This left Holly at the mercy of the fairy mothers. The Atlantean sprite watched Artemis leave (or at least a particular lower body part of Artemis), turning a surprisingly lecherous smile to the major. "Well...I never thought I'd say this about his type, but he's a keeper."

Holly bristled. "And what, exactly, do you mean by '_his type_.' A genius? A gentleman? A hero?"

"No! You know...a human." Her compatriots nodded in agreement. "He knows quite a bit about the People and conservation, so he's not a complete savage. I mean, there's no _law_ against it. Besides, I'm sure he presents a..._sizable_ advantage over an elf."

The other mothers seemed to find this enormously funny. Which was a pity, as Holly was _not_ amused.

"You spent a half an hour talking with him. You know everything he has done for the Lower Elements. You probably are even familiar with some of the things he's done for the humans. Yet _that_ is what you focus on? Frond, I hope pregnancy doesn't turn women stupid, since I'd rather like to have kids, but if I turn into _your _ilk..." She let this trail off, reveling in their cold glares.

Artemis walked back up, Flash cradled in his arms. He stopped several paces from the tense circle, trying to determine what had happened. "Ladies. Holly, shall we be off?"

"Let's." She straightened up and went to his side, walking with as much dignity as she could muster. Which was considerable. She had learned from Artemis, after all.

While their walk to the park had been in the companionable silence of two good friends on an outing, the walk back was taken over by the awkward silence of two people deep in their own thoughts.

It was Artemis who decided to voice his concerns. "They didn't like me."

"What?" Holly shook her head, shocked at this conclusion. "You formed a little fan club back there. They loved you."

"Was that me talking to them, Holly?"

She considered this. The timbre of his voice had been different. Softer. He had stood so casually, almost slouching. His speech had been...simplified. "No. Not the you I know."

"That's because I can be myself around you. With them...with other fairies, it's turn on the charm or be a savage Mud Man."

Perhaps he had heard some of their comments, then. "Well, it worked. You were impressively suave."

"I am not _suave_, Holly. I have never _aspired_ to suave." He breathed heavily, shifting the centaur in his arms. "I don't want to always be _trying_."

Holly remembered her first years in the LEP, where she had constantly been on guard, trying to impress everyone and failing most of the time. It had been exhausting. "Surely you don't have to do that with humans?"

"I'm no longer concerned with what humans think of me."

A jolt went though her body. To disguise it, she began fumbling in her pocket for the apartment keys. Breaking into a jog, she entered the apartment building well in advance of Artemis. She struggled against her shaking hands, thrusting the door open. Once inside, she leaned against the wall, burying her fingers in her short hair.

_I'm no longer concerned with what humans think of me_.

"Why?" Holly moaned, shaking her head frantically. Of course, she knew why. They had been leading up to this day for years. Hearing a shuffling at the door, she straightened, standing with her hands behind her back, quite stiff.

Artemis opened the door and took in her position. Looking at the floor ('Why is he...he _never_ looks down like that.') he walked past.

"Those women...it's not important, Artemis."

He paused, taking time to come up with the right words. "It's important to me, but...it's not important to you. That is where my problem arises.

"Come on, Flash. It's time for dinner. Hungry?"

"Y-yes." The shaky centaur said, obviously still half asleep.

Dinner was a short silent meal, punctuated by Flash's head falling into his salad. Artemis's stony expression broke at this, but only for a slight twitch of his lips. "Okay, little stallion, time for bed."

The word "bed" brought him right back up. "Noooo! I'm not tired!"

Holly put on a stern face and stood, ready to impose an early bedtime, but Artemis held up a hand, halting her. Hesitating for a moment, she finally gave him a deferential nod.

"Very well. What would you like to do in the meantime?"

The foal pushed his salad around the bowl, picking out the last few carrots to munch. "'Frond the King?'"

Artemis looked to Holly for an explanation.

"His favorite movie. A cartoon of the life of King Frond. You know the type: singing, dancing, talking animals."

"I imagine talking animals is a bit more believable among the People. All right, then." He stood and began to walk around the table.

"Artemis!" Holly grabbed his sleeve, a bit alarmed. "It's nearly two hours long. Way past his bedtime."

Deftly, he twisted his hand, catching hers and twining their fingers. "Trust me, Holly. Please?"

Finger tingling, she nodded, allowing Artemis to pull her into the living room. He placed her at one end of the couch, settling Flash on the opposite side. As he turned to inspect the television, Holly stared at her palm before realizing what she was doing, promptly sitting on both hands.

The man fiddled with the screen for a few minutes, looking through the internal memory for the film. He wasn't entirely sure he'd started the film until a young, female elf appeared on the screen, singing about her unborn child. Making a note of how fairy (or at least Foaly) movie players worked, he sat between the elf and centaur, draping his arms on the back of the couch.

It was a surprisingly good retelling of Frond's life, considering the inclusion of musical numbers and the censoring of his fairly violent reign. Disney could do no better, and the style actually closely resembled their glory age.

Fifteen minutes in, Flash's torso began to droop. He rested his head on Artemis's leg, falling asleep in moments. He whinnied slightly whenever he breathed out, tail flipping on occasion and legs kicking like a dreaming dog.

Holly was impressed. "How did you know to do that?"

"I _do_ have younger siblings, if you recall. I thought I wasn't likely to get much of a chance to watch other children, what with my circle's penchant for nannies, so I learned everything I could from them. Hands-on experience for the future."

Playing with the hem of her shirt, Holly followed this train of thought. "'The future?' You want...kids?"

"Of course. You think I would not pass on my immeasurable genius? It would be a travesty."

Yawning rather loudly, Holly replied, "Oh, yes, just what the People need. A bunch of little Artemis Fowl's running around."

"Well, I had hoped as much."

"I...was being sarcastic."

"And I wasn't."

The movie played on. It was a nice balance of action and humor, with the prerequisite bit of romance thrown in. Holly, a regular visitor to the Foaly household (at least for playtime), was familiar enough with the story. In fact, she could have sung along to the musical numbers, but such an interruption didn't seem right. Something better needed to be said to break the silence. Finally, as the movie entered its climax, Frond facing down the humans at the Battle of Taillte, she found the right words.

"I wish it was important to me."

"...why isn't it?"

The effort of the day and this conversation was rapidly taking its toll on Holly. Tentatively, ready to jump away at the slightest movement, she moved over. Leaning under his draped arm, Holly rested her head on Artemis's chest. "It would hurt."

He nodded. "Yes, it probably would, but if it would hurt and you still wanted it...doesn't that mean it's worth the pain?"

He gave her several minutes to think on this, growing steadily unnerved as she did not even try to respond. Finally, as the credits ended, he worked up the courage to look down.

Holly's eyes were closed, lips parted slightly as she slept. A soft sight escaped her lips as she edged closer, seeking his warmth.

Artemis smiled softly, shaking his head. "You," he whispered, lightly running his fingers through her short hair, "are going to drive me mad."

Moving with utmost care, he reached for the remote on the couch's armrest. He had to stretch slightly, barely jostling the elf as he hit the off switch.

With a groan, Holly opened her eyes, tilting her head back to look up at Artemis. Her eyes were bleary and a bit resentful. "You moved."

A shiver went down Artemis's spine. He licked his lips, but that only made his mouth go dry. "I'll try not to."

Smiling sleepily, Holly moved to her knees, turning to face him. She reached up, tracing Artemis's face. Along his chin and under the eye they had exchanged. Down the ridge of his nose, ending by resting her fingertips on his lips. "Thank you." She whispered, then wrapped her arms around his neck. Nuzzling her head head into the curve of his neck, she breathed in deeply, sighing in appreciation at his scent. Finally, she settled back to his side.

Shaking a bit, Artemis wrapped his arm around the elf, taking one of her small hands in his. He ran a thumb over the back of her hand and, delicately, picked it up and brushed his lips against her fingertips. "Anytime, Holly." Resting his chin on her head, he settled in as best he could and tried to think, hampered by his racing heart.

A few hours later, moving as silently as possible, Foaly and Caballine came home. The pair walked into the living room and, upon catching sight of the cuddling trio on the couch, Caballine melted. "Aw...had a big day?" She whispered, gingerly picking up her son.

Still awake, mind working at double-time, Artemis nodded slightly. Holly moaned, squeezing his hand as she slept.

"I'll just go put him down." Caballine tip-toed off (an impressive feat for a centaur), leaving Foaly looking down at the huddled pair.

His four hooves shuffled uneasily, moving him between many conflicting emotions. He scowled down at Artemis, sizing the man up.

Swallowing, Artemis gave the centaur as open a look as he could manage. "Foaly?" He wasn't exactly sure what he was asking, but he knew it was important.

The centaur ran a hand through his mane, breathing out heavily. "Should I...leave her with you?"

Artemis could barely get the words out. "If you don't mind."

Shaking his head, Foaly threw off the comment, obviously less than elated. "She's a big girl. She'll figure it out." He followed his wife down the hall, leaving his two friends in peace.

Again, Artemis rested his chin on Holly's head, pulling her a little closer. With an exhausted smile, he closed his eyes and finally joined the elf in sleep.

* * *

Holly knew what had happened the second she woke up. There was no moment of panic as she tried to remember where she was, who she was being held against, or what had happened.

Moving slowly, she sat up, though she made no move to escape Artemis's arm, which curled around her waist. She looked up to his face, an odd, stretched feeling in her chest. 'He's so...peaceful...but I need to get up. I could...yes, like that old Mud Man story. Sleeping...Something.' She placed a light hand on his collarbone, raising herself to her knees, moving her lips ever closer to his. Just one small move away...

The wall clock began to chime. (One.)

Already stirred by Holly's movements, Artemis's eyes fluttered open. He looked down at her, so close to his face, and instantly knew what was about to happen. (Two.) He leaned back slightly, allowing her to see his entire face, and especially his playful grin. 'What, precisely, do you think you're doing?' it said. Then his closed his eyes, mouth descending to hers.

Holly also closed her eyes, lips parting ever so slight. 'He's really going to...' (Three.)

Turning his head ever so slightly at the last moment, Artemis brushed his cheek against Holly's, resting his mouth next to her ear. "You are even more beautiful in the morning." (Four.)

"Artemis, I—"

"Shhh." (Five.) With agonizing slowness, he moved his head back. His lips never touched her skin, but brushed the minute hairs on her cheek (Six.), lifting ever so slightly at the corner of her mouth. Hovering. Waiting... (Seven.)

"D'arvit!" Holly's head snapped back, looking at the clock in horror. "I'm late!" Then, with a creeping, rising dread, she looked back down at Artemis, who was looking at her in utter bewilderment. "I...I...oh, d'arvit!" She jumped off the couch, sliding into the hall. "Foaly! Please tell me it is not 7pm!"

Running a curry comb along his flank, the centaur backed out of the bathroom. "Actually, it's 7:05. I need to adjust that clock."

Artemis had arisen from the couch to stand a few feet from her side, hands shoved in his pockets. The look he was giving her told Holly that he expected a talk, but the adrenalin from moments before, combined with her sudden panic over her impending shift, left her mind in a shambles.

"Foaly, I need a ride to work!"

Artemis leaned his head into the hall, giving the centaur an appraising look.

"I have a _van_, Mud Man." Foaly growled. "Just grab something to eat, Holly. It's a Section 8 day for you, so we'll just tell Vinyáya you were helping me drop off Artemis. No worries."

"Thanks, Foaly. You are really saving my hide."

Muttering about irresponsible young elves, Foaly disappeared back into the bathroom, leaving Holly to stare awkwardly at Artemis.

"I—"

"Breakfast." Artemis said, placing a hand on the small of Holly's back and guiding her into the kitchen. She sat at the breakfast counter, watching as he scoured the cabinets for something not too disgusting (vegan nutrition bars being the result) for them to eat. He stood at the kitchen side of the counter, munching rather unenthusiastically, looking everywhere but at Holy.

She couldn't bring herself to eat, instead trying to explain herself again. "Artemis, I—"

He reached out and covered her mouth. "Holly, let's agree that we both knew where that was going, shall we?"

She nodded.

"Then we shall simply have to wait and see if such an occasion presents itself again." He removed his hand.

"I...alright." She looked at her unopened bar, trying to sort out her thoughts. 'He's so...but he's still a human. I wonder if we could...if anyone has ever...' She needed to do some research. Genetics research.

Predictably, the ride to the shuttleport was awkward. Foaly kept looking at Artemis in the rear-view mirror, but he avoided looking at Holly. Whether he thought she would fill him in at work was uncertain, but he would be sorely disappointed if he trusted in her gossip genes.

Artemis seemed to be the more vocal of the trio, oddly enough for him. "So...Holly. When will you next be on the surface?"

"All my missions lately have been in the Lower Elements, Atlantis, or the Southern Hemisphere, so it probably depends on when I next get a visa through Foaly."

"Hmmm..." the centaur broke in, "I've been setting up a lot of those, lately. Vinyáya gave me a...not-so-subtle hint about that a while ago. It'll be three months before she lightens up. At least." He looked at Artemis, taking in the man's horrified expression. He relented, but was forced to transfer the awkwardness to Holly. "Of course, that's just for a visa to the surface. Getting one to come_ down _isn't out of the question, and there is that _big_ event coming up..."

Holly paled. "Oh, no. Nonono. _NO._"

Leaning between the front seats, obviously quite intrigued, Artemis gave Foaly an optimistic look. "What 'big event?'"

Holding her hands over her face, Holly groaned between her fingers. "My birthday."

Artemis looked stunned. "You...now that I recall, you never mentioned your birthday before. Logically, I assumed you had one, but..."

Slapping hands to thighs, she gave the genius a sour look. "Well, we have a lot of them, so we don't really make as big a deal of it as Mud Men do. Unless they're on a full moon."

"Logical, I suppose. Where will it be held?"

"The Haven Convention Center."

"What, _all_ of it? On a LEP salary?" He looked at Foaly for a brief moment, as if thinking the centaur had overstepped his bounds by pulling a lot of strings. When the tech-head waived a dismissive hand, his attention returned to the major.

"On, no, I'm not hosting it. That would be my great-grandfather. It's for most of the family." She played with her still unopened vegan snack. "We have...a sort of...thing for all being born on the same day."

That was an intriguing idea. 'Perhaps there is a fairy breeding season? I don't recall reading anything about that.' "What day is that?"

"February the fourteenth."

"...you're joking, right?"

Foaly took a chance and ruffled Artemis's hair, drawing out a rather predictable dirty look. "No joke, Mud Man. She's a Valentine baby. 1922. Cupid's little flapper."

The idea of Holly in a flapper's outfit made Artemis smile. He knew she would have reached adulthood far outside the Roaring Twenties, but it fit her short hair and brash attitude so well. "Then is there a spare invitation for the People's hero?"

Holly grumbled. "Oh, yes, certainly, but I'm not sure if there's one for _you_."

"Holly, you wound me."

"Not deeply enough, apparently."

"Children," Foally whinnied, pulling to the shuttleport drop-off, "don't make me get stern. Artemis, I'll set everything up. You just be at the port at sundown, ready to do your species justice. It's a big event. Very fancy."

Artemis nodded. "Then I suppose I shall have to procure formal attire."

The fairies looked at him, incredulous.

With a mock-salute, he slipped out of the car.

As Foaly began to pull away, Artemis jumped back to the curb, popping his head back inside the van. "Holly?"

Body tensing for the confrontation she had been expecting since breakfast, she turned in her seat to look at him. "Yes?"

"Save a dance for me?"

"I..." She gave a small laugh. "Yes. Of course."

* * *

**Next time, at the conclusion of _Fowl Shorts_: That would be telling...but you'll love it.**


	15. I never should have let them dance

**Once again there is a soundtrack. The starting points for the songs are obvious, so I won't give spoilers here. The songs are "I Wanna Be Like You" by Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, followed by "Valentine" by Martina McBride.

* * *

**

**Chapter 15: I never should have let them dance**

**February 14, 2014-Haven Convention Center**

When imagining a dance held by the People, it is important to remember two things:

1) They love music and dancing just as much (and for elves, more so) than humans.

2) They live a long, _long_ time.

Music played constantly at the February 14th Birthday Ball (apparently calling such an event a "Valentine's Day Dance" did not sit well with the host), but the theme was constantly changing. The latest pop song was followed by a centuries-old waltz. Polka played alongside mambos. Gnomish mixed with English, French, Japanese, Afrikaans, and every other language living and dead (and often many during the same song).

The attire was no less varied. Women in tulle ball gowns danced with men in Elizabethan doublets and jerkins. Older LEP officials in suits that still bore ancient ruffled collars twirled about women in kimonos. In all, it was a thoroughly schizophrenic affair.

Artemis was highly impressed. "It's like a cultural anthropologist's dreams," he said to Foaly, looking on as a gnome in a 1920's suit dipped a sprite wearing a grass skirt. "I would love to study this."

Foaly gave the human's shoulder a firm shake to break his concentration. "There will be no scholarly investigation tonight, Artemis. You remember the rules."

Holding his hands behind his black cotton suit (he preferred silk for such an occasion, but had his doubts on whether the People would look at him like an uncivilized dolphin-killer for wearing a fabric made from hundreds of dead insect cocoons), looking remarkably like an upperclassman reciting his lessons. "No takeovers of the Lower Elements, hostile or otherwise. No handling the alcohol, or else someone is bound to get exiled. No making any of the guests nervous, even if they incite my ire." He looked about for a moment, frowning. "Do you seriously think I'll be accomplishing that last one?" Despite the crowded nature of the entrance hall, a circle of empty space about three meters in radius surrounded them.

"Do your best." Seeing Artemis's developing downcast expression, he patted the man's back. "You'll be fine. All the usual suspects are here for Holly, as well as most of the higher ups. You can make small talk!"

"Small talk is not one of my most developed skills."

"Well, if you could lay off the condescension..." When the man did not move, Foaly gave him a little push. "I'm not your babysitter tonight, Fowl. Go. Schmooze. Find Holly. Er...if you can."

Artemis spun about to ask Foaly what he meant, but the centaur was wading through the crowd towards his elegant wife. 'Wonderful. Alone already. I really need to talk to the Council about letting Butler back down here.'

It wasn't that Artemis had never been to official functions and balls before. In fact, they were a regular occurrence for the Fowl household, and he could only escape so many of them before his mother blackmailed her son into attendance ("I will _not_ be attending this party, Mother!" "Very well. Oh, by the way, do you think Minerva and Holly would enjoy that picture of you bathing when you had chicken pox at four? Goodness, the water must have been so_cold_ that day." "...which shirt should I wear to match the theme, Mum?"). No, the issue was that he had never attended such a function _alone_. Either he came alongside his parents or the gracious Minerva Paradizo flew in to accompany him (the society tabloids _loved_ this). Then there was always Butler and a fair number of business partners to converse with. Surrounded by a conspicuous _lack_ of hangers-on, Artemis began to feel quite exposed. 'What do normal people do at a party when they're alone? Think! Bah, this is why Juliet always wanted me to watch those infantile prom movies, isn't it? Food! I go to the food table, and...'

He gagged a bit. 'Yes...fairy food. I'll work that out once I get to the dining area, then.' Steeling himself against a potential regurgitation on sight of some sort of cockroach-based hors d'oeuvre, he began walking to the back of the enormous convention center.

He had seen the hall in an unadorned state, and it had been an impressive sight even then. Tucked into a corner of Haven, it took advantage of the natural stalactites for decoration, with well-hidden lighting set up to highlight the nearly clear crystals. The floor had been mostly cleared of stalagmites, except for a few complete pillars that formed the edge of the ballroom area. Now long strings full of gold and silver beads traversed between the columns, which, when combined with the earthy tones of the cavern, gave the room a somewhat Gothic feel.

Perhaps this architecture should have comforted him, noting his residence in Fowl Manor, but Artemis soon found himself glancing up quite often, suspicious of the hanging rocks. 'How did they get the bead-work to stay? Surely that compromised the integrity of the—'

"Oy! Mud Man!"

Artemis perked up instantly. "Mulch!"

The dwarf was standing with Doodah Day and an elf who appeared to be in his early adulthood, all directly next to the largest of the food tables. A significant dent had been placed in the plates and Doodah was giving Mulch's backside a speculative look. Both were dressed in brown and black pinstripe suits, though Mulch's now had an interesting yellow smudge as an unplanned decoration. Mustard, perhaps. Hopefully.

"You two look rather...legitimate." Artemis commented, not entirely sure if he approved.

Doodah sniffed, offended. He had never warmed to the human, and not entirely because they spent so little time in each other's company. "I'll have you know I am entirely legitimate. No illegal activities for nearly a decade."

"Ah...I know the feeling." Artemis rested his thumbs in his pockets, leaning back as if he was an old man reminiscing on the past. "It's killing you, isn't it?"

"You have no idea." Doodah deadpanned. "Do you know what the speed limit in Haven is? 120 kilometers per hour. How am I supposed to get anywhere on time at a speed like that?"

"Leave earlier?" Mulch suggested.

"Oh, yes, with _all_ my free time. Work me like a slave, and for what? I'm not even a full partner, yet."

Mulch growled, displaying teeth filled with what Artemis was fairly certain were ant thoraxes. "I do _not_ work you 'like a slave,' because slaves _clean the toilet_every so often."

"What? That hazardous material dump site? I've told you, I'm not cleaning that for less than a 300% increase in my salary."

"Wimp. Can't handle a little sh—"

"So!" Artemis yelled, attracting the attention of most of the people gathering food. The unnamed elf was giving him a thankful look. "Where's everyone else? Vinyáya, Trouble, Holly, Chix, Grub, the Councilmen?"

Grinning, Mulch punched Artemis's arm, numbing it a bit. "Haha, Mud Boy, trying to be smooth? Sneaking her in the middle like that. Very clever, but..." He tapped the side of his nose, grinning.

Artemis suspected that "The Nose Knows" was not the best gesture for Mulch to use, but he didn't dare bring it up. "Yes...quite. Then if you'd answer my question?"

Mulch grabbed Artemis's non-dead arm, spinning him about and pointing towards the dance floor. "Well, there's four for you, right there."

What he saw was supposed to be impossible. Or at least it was according to his understanding of the world. Holly was exactly as he expected her: wearing a button-down, sleeveless green blouse and dark grey slacks (Holly in a dress was apparently a once-in-a-lifetime event, according to Caballine), but the elf she was partnered with...

"Is that...Grub?" His mind couldn't quite grasp the idea. Grub looked both elated and terrified, and he was actually moving Holly quite skillfully through a waltz. Trouble was nearby, partnered with a lithe strawberry-blond elf whom Artemis recalled as Lily Frond.

The elf who had been speaking with Mulch and Doodah before Artemis had arrived laughed lightly. His voice was smooth, but something in it unnerved the listeners. A slight echo, perhaps. "Oh, no worries, boy. I hear their relationship is entirely physical."

Rounding, eyes wide in utter horror at the idea, Artemis tried to ask an intelligent question. What came out was "Bwargh?"

The elf's laugh deepened at this response. "I forgot how easy it was to mess with you people. I should really spend more time on the surface." He smiled into his wine goblet and took a long drink, leaving Artemis to process the comment. Once it was apparent that the human had calmed down, the elf offered his free hand. "Holly's great-grandfather."

Realizing he was meeting his (rather malicious, it seemed to Artemis) host, the man schooled his posture and shook. "Artemis Fowl the Second. Your great-granddaughter and I have worked together a lot in previous years."

"Hmmm...Cupid."

Artemis flushed. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of this comment. If Mulch was any judge, all of Holly's friends were long aware of their awkward relationship status, but was this elf really suggesting that he'd been hit with an arrow? It seemed an odd thing to say about a descendant. "Pardon?"

"My name. It's 'Cupid.'" He closely watched his great-granddaughter as the waltz began to build towards a crescendo.

"Oh." The human pondered this, then nodded. "If you don't mind my saying, your parents must have had an interesting sense of humor. My grandparents certainly did."

Pursing his lips, the elf nodded. "Well, Venus was known for a wicked wit, and Mars was just plain _twisted_, so I suppose so."

Mulch elbowed Doodah. "Watch this. His brain is about to melt."

This wasn't a fair description. Artemis's brain had melted long ago. This revelation merely stirred it into a fine frappé. "You're...serious. You're a god." For the first time, he actually took in the other man's appearance and noted that he lacked the pointed ears of the People. His platinum blond hair was out of the normal elf shades, though not so uncommon that it had attracted his attention. The only feature that truly set him apart were his eyes: bi-colored irises, a hazel interior blending with a violet exterior.

The man (elf? god? It was hard to decide, as he seemed to blend many of their traits) nodded. "Yes." When Artemis edged away a bit, he shook his head, obviously annoyed. "Calm down, boy. I haven't had full powers in years. My matchmaking abilities are pretty much limited to manipulating sound systems to play special songs when I want something to happen." He looked rather bitter. "I'm the cosmic equivalent of a meddlesome DJ."

After glancing at Mulch and Doodah for assurance that this god was not particularly dangerous, Artemis sighed. "Well...at least that explains the date. I was beginning to think I was stuck in a story written by a hormonal teenage girl."

Cupid spoke into his wine glass, faintly amused. "Teenaged? Not for years."

"...what?"

"Oh, nothing. The wine talking."

Given his name, Artemis had spent a considerable amount of time as a child researching the Greco-Roman gods, but he had lost interest long before meeting the People. His old conclusion that the gods had merely been powerful and long-remembered religious leaders seemed to be thoroughly shattered. "If you'll pardon my curiosity, what, precisely, are you? Another species or...?"

Cupid looked to the ceiling, considering this. "I'm not sure 'species' is a good term. An 'idea' may be a better one, given all the interbreeding we can do. Yes, an 'idea' taken to flesh."

"So Holly is part-god, then."

Swirling his goblet, the immortal waved this off. "Technically, I suppose, but it really doesn't matter with fairies. The first generation get some added longevity, but past that nothing really happens. Now, Holly, however..." he motioned towards her with the glass, a paternal look on his face, "I like to think she got her aim from me. I'm...rather fond of her." He gave the human a speculative look.

"I—"

"Don't let Cupid fool you, Mud Man." Mulch rolled his eyes. "He's the last one who'll disapprove of your twisted inter-species relationship."

Shrugging and nodding, Cupid acknowledged this. "Marrying an elf pretty much disqualifies me, yes."

Drudging up his mythology, Artemis replied, "Psyche?"

A definite shudder passed along the elf's body. "Gods, don't mention her! Psyche was _psycho._ Ran about telling everyone that I visited her every night. She had her own little _shrine_ to me, and not the normal kind. She made these tiny dolls from hair...then ate them."

Even Mulch looked disturbed. "Her...own hair, right?"

"I'd hoped, but..."

"Artemis!"

Artemis's demeanor instantly changed from disgust to elation. He spun just in time to catch Holly, who flew into his arms, doing a fair impression of a sprite. "Holly!" Her weight forced him to bend down, their noses touching briefly before he managed to straighten up, holding her hands. "You look...is that makeup?" He brushed a finger along one of her eyebrows, causing her to laugh and lean back.

"Caballine ambushed me."

Trouble sauntered up, Lily Frond at his side and a huge grin on his face (Grub having, apparently, gone off to hyperventilate in the bathroom). "I hear there was an attempt to get her in a dress, but a knife got involved somehow."

"Hmmm...yes, that sounds like Holly." Artemis said.

"Totally," Lily broke in, flipping her hand about, "I've been telling her for years that a good pink tinge to her eyelids would make the guys just fall over her, but would she listen? No. And a manicure? Forget it. 'It interferes with my targeting. Blah blah blah.' Can she even be _called _a woman?"

Holly scowled. "I can hear, you know."

Lily's smile was teasing, but not the cruel smirk of the malicious. Merely the expression of a friend taking someone down a notch. "Really? I've had my doubts, what with all of the tribunals."

Removing both hands from Artemis's, she pointed to her ears. "What do these look like to you?"

Looking like he'd been awaiting this opening for years, Trouble reached out and grabbed her long ears, shaking her head side-to-side slightly. "Handlebars, of course."

After a few seconds of shocked silence, Holly hit Trouble's chest. When he only began chuckling, she hit him again. Not satisfied with the next response, she proceeded to rain down blows on his head and torso until he backed off, calling for mercy. After a few more punches (for good measure), she stopped, turning her back on the male. Then she rubbed her temples as she noticed Artemis's reaction. "Congratulations, Trouble. You broke the Mud Man."

"Broken" wasn't entirely accurate. He looked like his brain had journeyed to a faraway and perfect land full of mismatched eyes looking up at him.

Cupid snapped his fingers in the man's face, bringing him back to reality. "That was inappropriate. Correct, Mr. Fowl?

"Oh, yes. Uncouth, Trouble. Shocking from a commander."

Seeing that his great-granddaughter was not at all satisfied with this response, Cupid did the best thing to comfort her that he could: he handed over his wine goblet, which she downed in one swig. Taking back the glass, he looked into it for a moment, then shrugged, a small smile emerging.

"You all," Holly pointed at the three men, "are not a good combination for me. I am getting out of here. Mulch? Are those rumors I've been hearing from the LEP dwarfettes true?"

Mulch ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it down ever so slightly. "Well, I hate to toot my own horn..."

Everyone looked horrified at this entirely fitting description of Mulch's favorite activity.

"Oh, can't I have a little fun?" The detective muttered.

A bit more used to her old partner than most in attendance, Holly grabbed his hand and began dragging him away. "Yes. On the dance floor."

"Women. Can't keep their hands off the Diggums." He followed the elf out, soon moving her into a surprisingly well-coordinated quick foxtrot.

Artemis looked on, his unease growing with their every step. "Are you...all that good?" He considered what he had seen a few minutes ago. Even _Grub_ had been moving well, and the office worker was known for being about as coordinated as a drunken sailor.

Giving the human a pitying look, Cupid decided to explain. "Live for a good ninety years and see what kind of skills you'll pick up. Seriously, though, Mr. Fowl, you must know how to dance."

"Well...just a bit. It was never really important. What?" The last was directed to Trouble, who was rubbing his hands together slowly, standing taller than normal.

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm just enjoying being better than you."

Looking rather more like a petulant child than he had since he was five, Artemis crossed his arms and leaned against the food table, trying to ignore the knowledge that a bowl of grub casserole was directly behind him. "Seriously, Trouble, if this is your version of being diplomatic, I don't see how you managed to get this high in the LEP."

Lily jumped to his defense. "Oh, come, now! He's a fine officer. Second-best shot in the LEP, third-best pilot, and second-highest mission success rate. After Holly and Vinyáya, of course."

Trouble draped an arm around her shoulder, smiling lewdly. "If I'm second and third best at everything, how did I end up becoming Commander?"

She looked him in the eyes, then dropped her gaze decidedly downward, looking back up with a rather disapproving smile.

"Oh, come on!" He actually did look highly offended. "The 'Glass Ceiling' thing again? Couldn't you have said it was because I'm older than Holly? Or not involved with a Mud Man?"

"She's not involved with me." Artemis blurted reflexively. Technically it was true, but perhaps not entirely accurate.

Ears actually perking up a bit, Trouble regarded him. "Oh, really? Then you won't mind if I take her out for a spin?"

Not sure what version of "spin" Trouble was using, Artemis merely scowled.

Lily did, as well, escaping his arm and moving to stand beside Doodah, who considered her a moment before waggling his eyebrows. She edged away slightly, muttering about ruined reputations, killing loose-lipped fairies, and the gall of men.

When Holly and Mulch finally returned, they were both red-faced and panting. Holly gratefully accepted another goblet of wine, downing it in a few more mouthfuls than the last, but still far too quickly to enjoy it. She shook her head to clear it, then looked about, bright eyed. "I need a break."

A strong Latin drum and piano solo started up, soon accompanied by brass instruments. Trouble instantly perked up and darted forward, grabbing Holly's hand. "No, you need to dance with me."

She giggled, leaning away. "No, I need to sit down."

"Hoooolly." He said in a soft voice, grabbing her other hand and pushing them alternately. The female instinctively fell into step, twisting her hips slightly along with his rhythm. "You _need_ to dance with me."

She hesitated, then stepped forward, laying an arm on his shoulder. "Oh, fine." Before anyone else could react to her sudden capitulation, the Commander swept her away from the group, holding her tight to his side.

If Trouble's waltz had been precise, then this swift mix of samba and swing was stunning. Holly was a good dancer, certainly, but her partner was a strong lead, sending her into tight spins and then crushing their bodies close. They took over the dance floor, clearing a huge space in the center, which they used to full advantage, moving from one end to the other in swift curves. His hands were one second locked with hers, and the next on her hips, guiding her into a shimmy that would have sent a dress floating high into the air.

Holly was laughing with each move, Trouble matching her exuberance with a wild grin. As the music left off a lengthy brass solo, he pulled her to his chest, their faces mere breaths apart. They stepped back and forth, advancing and retreating. Trouble dipped Holly low, her head tilting back to expose her neck, as if in surrender. Then the Commander looked over to Artemis, giving him a smirk and wink.

Artemis was not a hot-headed person. Despite the many years he had spent in life-or-death situations involving Koboi, Spiro, demons, and his own past self, he had never truly lost his temper. Yet the look Trouble gave him impaired his rational though. He looked to Cupid, remembering his earlier comment about manipulating music.

The god shook his head, looking far less concerned about Artemis's reaction than the rest of the group. "Hey, he chose that one himself."

Looking back, Artemis considered the matchup of these two elves. 'I was once fond of the term "chemistry." I suppose I forgot all about that "blowing up in my face" part. I can not let this go on.' He began to move forward, but was halted by a rather strong hand gripping the back of his jacket. He looked down at Mulch, eyes flashing dangerously.

Mulch let go, holding his hands up in defense. "Trust me on this, Artemis. Interrupting them will hurt your chances a lot more than a little rumba."

"I thought it was 'Roomba.'" Doodah muttered.

"It's a samba." Lily snapped, giving Artemis a comforting look. It did little to help the man, but had just enough effect to keep him from storming onto the dance floor.

The music swelled as the song neared it's conclusion. The dancing pair, who were now the only couple still on the floor, began to execute even more complicated maneuvers. With the last notes, Trouble sent Holly into a final, tight spin and threw her into a deep dip, her legs shooting into a split to keep her balance.

They remained that way for several seconds, breathing heavily, until the crowd began to cheer. Taking a few quick bows, they jogged back to the circle of friends, Holly covering her face with one hand to hid her embarrassment

Not bothering to look at the god, Lily held out her hand, requesting the wine cup.

Grinning, the god gave it and sat back to enjoy the show.

Her hips swinging in an exaggerated motion, Lily approached the couple. She looked at Holly, nodding in deference. "Major Short." She looked at Trouble, repeating the gesture. "Commander Kelp." Then she lashed out, drenching Trouble with the full goblet.

He looked at her in utter shock as she walked back to Cupid, handing over the goblet and disappearing into the crowd. "What did I do?"

Cupid stepped to the couple, refilling his goblet with a wineskin on his belt. He grinned as Trouble flinched back. "Oh, nothing out of the normal for you, Commander." He wrapped an arm around Holly's shoulder, drawing her away. "Come, Holly, you need a good rest and something to drink."

Alarmed, Artemis stepped forward, snatching the goblet from Cupid's hand. "She does _not_ need another drink."

All of his companions looked at him in shock. Or, more particularly, at the wine goblet he held. He offered it back, but Cupid backed up. Even a god had to follow fairy rules when in Haven.

His crossness increasing, Artemis regarded the drink. "Ah, yes, Chi Lun. Well, if you can't drink _with_ me or take the drink back _from_ me, then I shall just have to solve this problem myself." Just as swiftly as Holly had before, he tilted his head back and downed the glass. He winced a bit at the slightly bitter vintage and inspected the cup. Only a slight film remained. "Is that acceptable?"

Nodding, Cupid reached out, taking the goblet back. He did not refill it, but instead continued to look at Artemis, this time with concern.

"Very well. If none of you mind, I believe it is time for Holly to be done."

"Noooooo." Holly whimpered, grabbing his arm. The effects of the alcohol were making themselves quite apparent.

Artemis focused down on her, replying blandly. "Holly, how many drinks _have_ you had tonight?"

Straightening up and acting as dignified as possible, she began counting her fingers, starting from her thumb. "One. Two." She looked at the scar on her index finger, then up at Artemis. "How many fingers do I have?"

"Yes, time for you to go home, I think." Artemis grumbled. 'Seriously, she can't have had that much. The dance has barely started.' He began to lead her to the exit, hoping to find Foaly or Caballine (as perhaps the only _responsible_ fairies in attendance), but he staggered slightly. He paused, shaking his head, but it did little to alleviate the odd sense of...drunkenness?

Slowly, he turned his head to regard Cupid. "God's wine. It's powerful, isn't it?"

Cupid shrugged. "It has to be. Rather quick, too."

Holding up a finger, Artemis did his best to order his thoughts. "Mulch. Doodah. You are going to take Holly to the Foaly's. They can watch her once they get home."

Doodah pouted. "What? Leave, now? The party barely got started!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Doodah." Mulch crooned, laying a hand on his partner's shoulder. "Perhaps I can get some cheese to go with your bitching?"

The sprite frowned. "I think you mean 'whine.'"

Mulch smiled, showing off all of his teeth. "I like my version better."

"Yes, very clever, Mulch." Artemis muttered, breathing deeply. He'd been drunk before. Perhaps not phenomenally drunk like he was likely to be quite soon, but his coordination wasn't completely shot. "Now, if you'll get Holly out of here before she passes out—"

"Noooooo!" Holly repeated herself, obviously doing her best to appear sober. "I promised you a dance!"

"Holly, under the circumstances, I can wait—"

"_NO!_" She began tugging him towards the dance floor, which was emptying slightly in the transition between songs. "Just one dance, then we can go home."

Artemis opened his mouth for another refusal, but a hard yank from Holly made him step onto the floor. He tried to pull back, but, though she was smaller than him, Holly was easily stronger. "Just...Holly...please!"

She turned to face him, grabbing his hands. "Artemis...just one? Then we'll go home."

He didn't miss the plural in that statement, and it befuddled his alcohol-soaked mind for the last few, critical moments before the next song began with several strong piano chords. Then he was faced with an entirely new dilemma as he took in the song's speed.

Holly smiled, her tugging losing its ferocity as Artemis's muscles relaxed. "Get over it, Artemis." She pulled his hand towards her side, moving him closer. "It's just a slow dance."

Artemis knew he had lost. There was no way he could get this determined elf to change her mind. Hesitantly, he moved his free hand to the back of her neck (the farthest down he could reach), allowing her to place her other hand on his hip. "This is...not a standard form."

She looked up at him, her smile bright. "Artemis, I don't think either of us come standard." Then she stepped backward, sparking him to move into the dance and take the lead.

The floor didn't clear like it had with Trouble. In fact, fairies swarmed onto it, crowding them together. Artemis tried a small spin, but his lack of practice and their general low coordination made it an awkward maneuver. Still, they smiled at this ungraceful move, settling into a slow shifting from foot to foot.

"I suppose you were right, Artemis. You aren't suave."

He nodded. "I've had no reason to be."

"What," she teased, briefly removing her hand from his waist to poke his chest, "no little débutante to wow?"

"No, I avoid the debs as much as possible. You know, they're only after one thing." He smiled wickedly.

"Aw...so no girlfriend?" At the shake of his head, she pursued the thought. "A Valentine, then? That's what you humans do today, right?"

"Generally, yes, but I decided to spend the time with my good friend."

"Such a sacrifice." A red tinge began to spread across her cheeks. "Then...you can be _my_ Valentine."

"I..." He swallowed, trying to look collected as his mind processed this idea. "I would be honored. Provided you be mine."

"Of course."

They continued to circle, simply enjoying the opportunity to touch one another. Still, they could not bring themselves to keep their gazes locked, soon descending into awkward blushes. Artemis was the first to look up, pretending to inspect their fellow dancers. Soon, a nagging thought at the back of his mind began to bore through Artemis's consciousness. He turned his head, searching the ballroom until he caught Cupid's eyes. The god was watching them closely, his expression unreadable.

"Artemis?" Holly asked, bringing his attention back to her.

"Yes?"

She spent a long time in thought, lightly chewing on her cheek. Her eyes didn't meet his for nearly a minute, and when they did, she looked frightened. "I...I think we only get one more chance at this."

"One more chance at what?" Artemis asked, puzzled.

Holly took a deep breath. Then she closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Her lips parted slightly in a clear invitation.

It would have been easy. He could have dropped to his knees and tenderly accepted the kiss. Perhaps he could have even picked her up in his arms and crushed his lips against hers, and who knew where things would go from there. What he did was infinitely harder.

He removed his hand from her neck and stepped back, leading her off the dance floor and to their waiting friends. His words stuck in his throat at first, forcing him to clear it into his fist. "Er...Holly needs to go. Now."

Trouble stepped forward, reaching for the elf's hand. "I've got my car in the garage. That way Doodah—"

Artemis stepped between the two elves, staring the male down. "_No_. Doodah, Mulch, I presume you are to be trusted."

The dwarf grinned. "If Doodah puts one hand out of line, he gets to ride the Mulch Express."

Doodah looked offended. "And what about you?"

"I, sir, am a gentleman." He took Holly's hand from Artemis, guiding her gently towards the exit. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

She looked over her shoulder as they departed, breathing out long and shallowly. "Not as much as I'd hoped." Then they were gone, lost in the crowd.

Artemis leaned against one of the stalagmite pillars, holding his face in his hand. "That was..." He shook his head, at a loss for words.

Patting Artemis's arm, Trouble consoled the confused man. "Come on, Artemis. You'll get your chance to make your move. I'm sure of it."

Artemis snarled, bearing down on the Commander. "If you want me to do that, then perhaps you should _back off_."

Trouble looked at him, confused, then began laughing. "You thought...I cannot believe you, Mud Boy." He pushed the human away, though he was forced to back up slightly when Artemis surged forward again, fueled by the god's wine. "Hey! Were you listening? I don't need to 'back off.' I'm not interested in the first place."

Incredulous and still irate, Artemis clenched his fists. "Then why were you so _keen_ to dance with Holly?"

Trouble spoke with a snap to his voice, obviously implying that the answer was supposed to be obvious. "To mess with you. Someone should take you down a few pegs every so often, and since Holly hasn't been doing that lately, the task, oh so sadly, falls to me. I mean, Holly is _not_ my type. She's so prickly she's halfway to a cactus."

"This is not," Artemis replied, his tone no less venomous, "something you _joke about_."

"Why not?"

Suddenly, Artemis understood Trouble. It calmed him somewhat, but the revelation wasn't a pleasant one. He gave the elf a pitying look. "If you don't understand yet, at your age, I wonder if you ever will." Then he walked off before his fury returned, leaving Trouble to consider this with a considerable amount of unease. "Cupid? I need to speak with you."

Cupid glanced at Trouble, as if seeking support. Finding no help from him, he followed Artemis to a relatively deserted section of the ballroom. The lighting was poor, obscuring the man's face, leaving Cupid unsure if he should be worried about his safety. He was a god, but even gods can get into a fistfight and lose. "Er...Mr. Fowl?"

"Did you manipulate the music?" Artemis said coldly, looking at the immortal.

He held up his palms. "Hey, don't look at me."

"Then you didn't." Artemis was relieved.

"No, I just don't want you looking at me like that."

Artemis grabbed Cupid's collar, pulling him as close to his face as possible, actually lifting the god onto his toes. "Why on Earth would you _do_ that? You_know_how we feel about each other, don't you? She is intoxicated and I am _far_ from lucid, and you are trying to throw us together like two drunken clubbers!"

Cupid reached out, digging his nails into Artemis's wrists until the human let go. The immortal stepped back, straightening his shirt. "If you're saying you don't need help, I've got to disagree."

"We may need some help, and perhaps a song would have worked nicely, but getting us _smashed_ and turning us into completely different people?"

Now Cupid was scowling. "Okay, wait there, Mud Man. Let me tell you something Bacchus taught me: wine can change some people completely, yes, but not everyone. Others, like you and Holly, will just lose their inhibitions and fears. They will do the things they have _longed_ to do, but were too worried about. You just lost your _best_ chance to make your move without any fears of rejection."

Artemis closed his eyes tightly, rubbing the space on his forehead between his eyebrows. "No. No, I do not want to be with Holly because she was drunk. Her fears, her inhibitions...they are a part of her." He dropped his hands, looked to the ceiling and almost yelling in frustration. "D'arvit! I didn't even have time to give her my gift!"

Cupid held out his hand. "Well, it's a bit late, now. I'll pass it on to her, seeing as you aren't likely to see her for a while."

Reluctantly, Artemis took a few dozen sheets of folded paper our of his breast pocket, handing them over to the god, who opened the packet and inspected it critically.

"Papers? Really, this is a pretty bad gift."

"It's—"

"I _know_ what it is, Mud Man." He shoved the papers back. "Do yourself a favor and get her some jewelry."

Artemis looked down at Cupid, not certain if he was serious. "Holly does not strike me as the 'jewelry' kind of girl."

"Mud Man...trust me."

"I see no reason to." Artemis grumbled, tucking the papers back into place.

"Fair enough." Cupid tapped his lips. "Well, then...tell me something. Where do you go from here?"

Artemis gave a noncommittal shrug, but it was obvious that he had considered this almost as soon as he had led Holly off the dance floor. "I wait for my next chance. As simple as that."

Looking amused, Cupid inspected this undeterrable human who was so stuck on his great-granddaughter. "And what, pray tell, are you going to do then?"

Taking a moment to smooth out his suit, Artemis looked for the perfect words. They were easy ones, and he said them with his old vampire smile.

"I have a plan."

**The End**

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**The story continues in _The Dead, the Broken, and the Living_**


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